Welcome to Talking ‘Bout My Generation: The Baby Boom Experience

Hi. My name is Dave Price and I’m the creator, coordinator, curator, and chief content producer for Talking ‘Bout My Generation: The Baby Boom Experience .

That’s What I’m Talking About, a multi-media communications collective that offers 5 distinct programsTalking About Pop Culture in Partisan Political Time

Talking About My Generation is one of 6 hubs in our comprehensive DC-based, multi-media network That’s What We’re Talking AboutPop Culture, Power & The American Voice. The other 5 are:

  • Welcome to the Trumpocalypse
  • How the Hell Did We Get Here?
  • Democracy in Danger
  • District of Dissent: Washington, DC as the Nation’s Capital of Protest
  • The DC Communications Collective

Here, on this webpage, you’ll find a collection of articles written by me, as well as some of my social media commentary on classic rock, pop culture, and some of the most important events, people, ideas, and topics from the formative years of the Baby Boomers (1945 to 1980).

Since I was born in 1952, I have been around to personally witness all but the first 6 years of Baby Boom times. A few years after I retired, I decided to use the skills I had developed in my 12 years in journalism, 20 years of high school English teaching, 5 years as as teacher trainer and instructional coach for the Talent Development Program of Johns Hopkins University, 5 years as a DC-based national educational consultant and 40+ years as a keyboard player in classic rock bands to create and operate Talking ‘Bout My Generation. And yes, for those of you who know your rock music, I did steal the title from the 1965 British Invasion single by Pete Townshend and The Who.

During our first 7 years (including almost 2 years lost to the Covid pandemic), highlights included the researching, writing, and publishing of my 1st book Come Together: How the Baby Boomers, the Beatles, and a Youth Counterculture Combined to Create the Music of the Woodstock Generation. (And yes, I did steal that title from the Beatles 1969 single – I’m sure you see a pattern developing here). I also guided Baby-Boom-themed 1st Amendment tours at the former DC museum of news, the Newseum on Pennsylvania Avenue, for 3 years; designed and delivered a walking tour focused on famous DC protests for Smithsonian Associates; and presented a series of interactive lectures at the Smithsonian and other DC venues.

I believe there is much here for you to enjoy in Talking About My Generation, whether you are a Baby Boomer or someone from a younger generation who wants to learn more about the past and how it continues to directly influence us today.

 If you do like what we’re offering, please subscribe with the email link (at top right) so you can get regular updates on what’s new and what’s news at Talking ‘Bout My Generation: The Baby Boomer Experience.

Social Media Sites Linked to Talking About My Generation

You Tube Channel –Talking ‘Bout My Generation

Book – Come Together: How the Baby Boomers, the Beatles, and a Youth Counterculture Combined to Create the Music of the Woodstock Generation

Facebook Page – Talking ‘Bout My Generation: The Baby Boomer Experience

Facebook Page – Rock of Agers: The Music of the Woodstock Generation

Network About Page for Talking ‘Bout My Generation

1. What This Is

Talking ’Bout My Generation is a storytelling hub dedicated to the lived experience, cultural memory, contradictions, and legacy of the Baby Boom generation. It is not nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. It’s not a greatest-hits reel. And it’s not an attempt to freeze the past in amber.

This is a reflective, honest, sometimes uncomfortable exploration of what it meant—and still means—to grow up in post-war America shaped by television, rock and roll, Cold War fear, civil rights struggle, political upheaval, and rapid social change. It’s about how a generation was formed—and how it, in turn, helped form the country we live in now.

2. Why It Matters

Baby Boomers didn’t just witness history—we were immersed in it. We grew up with the rise of mass media, the power of pop culture, the promise and betrayal of institutions, and the tension between idealism and reality. We absorbed values from sitcoms and songs, learned politics from protests and presidents, and watched trust in authority rise and fall—sometimes in the span of a single decade.

Today, Boomers are often reduced to caricatures: entitled, out of touch, responsible for everything—or, conversely, the last “real” generation. This project rejects both extremes. Understanding the Baby Boomer experience—its hopes, blind spots, successes, and failures—is essential to understanding modern America itself.

3. What We Cover

Talking ’Bout My Generation explores the Baby Boomer story through multiple lenses, including:

  • Growing Up on Screens
    How television shaped values, expectations, humor, fear, and aspiration.
  • Music as Moral Education
    Rock, folk, soul, protest songs, and the lessons embedded in lyrics.
  • Politics in Real Time
    From Kennedy to Watergate, Vietnam to Reagan, and beyond—how political moments felt as they happened.
  • Cultural Myths vs. Lived Reality
    The gap between the American Dream we were sold and the one we actually experienced.
  • Boomers Then and Now
    How aging, hindsight, and historical distance reshape identity.
  • Legacy Questions
    What we passed on, what we failed to pass on, and what we still owe future generations.

4. Who It’s For

This hub is for:

  • Baby Boomers who want something deeper than nostalgia—and more honest than generational blame.
  • Gen X, Millennials, and Gen Z readers trying to understand where today’s cultural and political fault lines came from.
  • Educators, writers, and cultural observers interested in generational storytelling.
  • Anyone curious about how pop culture quietly teaches values—and how those lessons endure.

You don’t need to agree with everything here. You just need to be willing to engage.

5. Five Core Questions

This hub returns again and again to five guiding questions:

  1. What did we believe growing up—and who taught us those beliefs?
  2. Where did pop culture reinforce values—and where did it mislead us?
  3. How did political trust rise, fracture, and transform over our lifetimes?
  4. What did we get right—and what did we get painfully wrong?
  5. What responsibility does a generation have once it knows better?

6. Values and Principles

Talking ’Bout My Generation is guided by a few core principles:

  • Context over caricature
  • Memory as responsibility
  • Reflection as civic duty

This is not about defending a generation—or condemning it. It’s about understanding it.

7. Our Position on AI

This hub is created in collaboration with AI—not as a replacement for memory, but as a tool for reflection, synthesis, and questioning. AI helps surface patterns, challenge assumptions, and organize decades of cultural material. The human voice—lived experience, emotional memory, moral reckoning—remains central. This is an ongoing experiment in human-machine collaboration grounded in transparency, authorship, and accountability.

8. How to Engage

The Black Panthers, Then — and Why They Matter Now (Part 5 of 5)


The Reckoning: What the Panthers Ultimately Teach Us About Democracy


Editor’s Note

This final chapter does not ask whether the Black Panthers were right or wrong.
History has already complicated that question beyond usefulness.

Instead, it asks something harder—and more urgent:
What does the Panther story reveal about American democracy itself?


The Question Beneath the Question

The Black Panther Party is often remembered as a movement about race, militancy, or radicalism.

It was actually about something more destabilizing:

Who gets to decide whether democracy is working?

The Panthers did not petition power to be kinder. They measured power against its own promises—and found it lacking. That made them intolerable.

Democracy as Performance vs. Democracy as Practice

American democracy is exceptionally good at symbolic inclusion:

  • Voting rights in theory
  • Equal protection on paper
  • Opportunity promised rhetorically

The Panthers exposed the gap between performance and practice.

They asked:

  • What does freedom mean without food?
  • What does equality mean without healthcare?
  • What does citizenship mean without safety from state violence?

Their answer was blunt: Rights that cannot be exercised are theater. That diagnosis still lands.

Why Power Always Panics at Parallel Institutions

The Panthers’ greatest “crime” was not protest. It was replacement. They fed children where the state would not. They provided healthcare where the market failed. They educated where schools erased history.

This created a terrifying implication:

If communities can govern themselves morally, then state authority is not inevitable—it is conditional. Power can survive criticism. It struggles with comparison.

What Repression Admits—Quietly

The state response—surveillance, infiltration, media distortion, lethal force—was not evidence of Panther extremism. It was evidence of institutional insecurity. When governments believe they are legitimate, they reform. When they are unsure, they repress.

From COINTELPRO to modern protest policing, the pattern is consistent:

  • Address threat perception, not root cause
  • Control narrative, not outcomes
  • Neutralize organizers, not injustice

That choice is a confession.

The Panther Legacy Is Not a Blueprint

The Panthers are not a model to be copied wholesale.
They operated in a specific time, under extraordinary pressure, with tools shaped by that era. Their legacy is not tactical. It is diagnostic.

They show us:

  • What happens when democratic institutions abandon communities
  • How power reacts when legitimacy is questioned
  • Why reform often arrives only after disruption

They are less a roadmap than a warning sign.

Why the Symbols Keep Returning

The Panther image resurfaces not because people romanticize the past—but because conditions recur.

When:

  • Policing becomes unaccountable
  • Economic systems extract without reinvesting
  • Political participation feels symbolic rather than substantive

People reach for a language that names the failure plainly. The Panthers named it once. The fact that the name still resonates tells us something unresolved remains.

What Democracy Owes the Present

If democracy is to be more than ritual, it must be:

  • Responsive, not reactive
  • Material, not merely rhetorical
  • Protective, not punitive

The Panthers did not invent these standards. They demanded that America meet its own. That demand still stands.

The Final Lesson

The Black Panther Party forces an uncomfortable conclusion: Democracy is not threatened by dissent. It is threatened by neglect. When people organize to survive, to educate, to protect one another, and the state responds with fear—that is not law defending order. That is power defending itself.

The Question We’re Left With

The Panthers asked America to choose:

Reform or repression.
Legitimacy or control.
Democracy as lived reality—or democracy as stagecraft.

The answer then was repression. The question now is whether we recognize the choice when it presents itself again.

The Black Panthers, Then — and Why They Matter Now (Part 4 of 5)

The Break: How Movements Are Fractured From the Inside

Editor’s Note

Parts 2 and 3 traced the external pressures placed on protest movements—state repression and media framing.
Part 4 turns inward.

This is the least comfortable chapter. It is also the most instructive. Movements rarely end with a single blow.
They are worn down, turned inward, and made to doubt themselves—until collapse looks like failure rather than design.


Repression’s Quiet Companion

The most effective way to defeat a movement is not to crush it publicly.
It is to make it fracture privately. The Black Panther Party faced constant external assault, but the damage that proved hardest to repair came from inside the organization, carefully encouraged by outside forces. Not because the Panthers were uniquely flawed—but because all movements are human.

COINTELPRO’s Inside Game

Under COINTELPRO, the Federal Bureau of Investigation perfected a strategy that did not require mass arrests or public trials.

It required:

  • Mistrust
  • Paranoia
  • Exhaustion

Fake letters accused leaders of betrayal. Rumors suggested informants everywhere. Conflicts were amplified, not resolved.The goal was not to prove guilt. It was to make unity impossible.

Infiltration as Psychological Warfare

Informants were not just observers. They were participants, often encouraged to:

  • Escalate disputes
  • Undermine leadership
  • Push reckless actions that justified crackdowns

Once suspicion entered the room, organizing slowed. Meetings turned inward. Energy shifted from building programs to policing loyalty.

The Panthers spent precious time asking:

Who can we trust?

That question is poison to collective action.

Ideology as a Fault Line

As pressure mounted, ideological differences hardened.

Debates over:

  • Armed self-defense vs. community programs
  • Revolutionary urgency vs. long-term organizing
  • Coalition-building vs. separatism

These were legitimate tensions—but under siege, disagreement became division. COINTELPRO did not invent these debates.
It weaponized them. When survival is uncertain, compromise feels like betrayal.

Burnout: The Invisible Weapon

Even without infiltration, constant pressure takes a toll.

Panther organizers faced:

  • Repeated arrests
  • Surveillance of families
  • Financial precarity
  • The psychological weight of being hunted

This level of intensity is unsustainable. Burnout does not look dramatic. It looks like missed meetings, short tempers, and quiet withdrawal. Movements don’t always collapse. Sometimes they simply exhaust themselves to death.

Why Collapse Gets Misread

When movements fracture, history often assigns blame inward:

  • “They couldn’t agree.”
  • “They turned on each other.”
  • “They lost discipline.”

What gets erased is context. No organization functions normally while under constant attack.
Fracture under pressure is not proof of failure—it is evidence of threat perception.

The Panthers were targeted because they worked.

The Modern Parallel

Today’s movements face the same pressures—accelerated. Digital surveillance replaces physical tails. Social media replaces fake letters. Public call-outs replace private provocations.

Internal conflict now unfolds:

  • In comment sections
  • On group chats
  • In screenshots stripped of tone and context

Distrust spreads faster than solidarity. The method has evolved. The effect is identical.

Philadelphia and the Danger Zone

New or re-emerging movements—especially those invoking charged historical symbols—enter what might be called the danger zone:

  • Visibility without infrastructure
  • Attention without protection
  • Symbolism without organizational depth

At this stage, fracture is easiest. Without strong internal processes for conflict resolution, education, and care, pressure does the rest of the work for the state. Again, this is not a moral judgment. It is a structural reality.

The Lesson the Panthers Leave Behind

The Panthers teach us something uncomfortable but vital: Repression succeeds not only by force, but by turning movements against themselves.

The antidote is not purity.
It is:

  • Transparency
  • Political education
  • Shared purpose
  • Sustainable pace

Unity is not the absence of conflict. It is the ability to survive it.

Why This Matters Now

Every generation asks why movements “fail.”

A better question is:

Who benefits when they fracture?

When exhaustion replaces hope…
When suspicion replaces solidarity…
When disagreement becomes disintegration…

Power doesn’t have to win. It just has to wait

What’s Next

Part 5 concludes the series by asking the hardest question of all:
What the Panthers ultimately teach us—not about revolution, but about democracy itself.

The Black Panthers, Then — and Why They Matter Now (Part 3)

The Frame: How Media Turns Protest Into Threat

Editor’s Note

If Part 2 examined the state’s response to effective protest, Part 3 examines the partner that makes that response palatable. Repression rarely begins with batons. It begins with a story.


Power Needs a Narrative

No modern government suppresses protest openly. It does so narratively—by shaping how dissent is understood before force is applied. Media framing is not a side effect of repression. It is a precondition. Before raids come headlines. Before arrests come labels. Before violence comes language.

From “Demands” to “Disorder”

The original Black Panther Party understood this instinctively. That is why they produced their own newspaper, controlled their imagery, and insisted on explaining their programs in their own words. They knew that if others defined them, they would be neutralized. They were right. Mainstream coverage consistently emphasized:

  • Armed imagery over community programs
  • Confrontation over construction
  • Militancy over material needs

A free breakfast does not photograph as dramatically as a rifle. But a rifle photographs well enough to erase the breakfast.

The Manufacture of Fear

Media does not merely report protest. It selects meaning. Consider the recurring pattern:

  • Peaceful protests described as “erupting”
  • Crowds framed as “mobs”
  • Isolated property damage treated as the movement’s core purpose
  • Law enforcement cast as reactive rather than initiating force

Language does the work before policy ever arrives. Once protest is defined as chaos, control becomes common sense.


Why Optics Matter More Than Truth

The Panthers’ most radical act was not carrying weapons—it was exposing the gap between American ideals and lived reality. That gap is dangerous to legitimacy.So the story had to change:

  • From Why are these communities suffering?
  • To Why are these people so angry?

Anger, once foregrounded, becomes disqualifying. Grievance, once obscured, becomes irrelevant. This reframing allows institutions to absorb Panther demands later—school lunches, health screenings, oversight mechanisms—without ever crediting the source. History remembers reforms. It forgets who forced them.


Television, Then—and Social Media, Now

In the 1960s, television collapsed distance. Viewers saw protests without context, images without explanation, confrontation without cause. Today, social media accelerates that distortion. Short clips circulate detached from sequence:

  • The shove without the provocation
  • The fire without the hours of peaceful assembly
  • The arrest without the policy that caused the protest

Algorithms reward outrage, not understanding. The most inflammatory frame wins. This does not require coordination.
It requires incentives.


Why “Violence” Becomes the Only Question

Once a movement is framed as violent—or even potentially violent—every other question disappears.

Not:

  • Why are people organizing?
  • What failures are being exposed?
  • What reforms are being demanded?

Only:

  • Is this dangerous?
  • Who is responsible for restoring order?

At that point, the state has already won the argument.


Philadelphia and the Speed of the Frame

The emergence of Panther-identified organizing in Philadelphia illustrates how quickly this framing now hardens. Before programs, before platforms, before outcomes:

  • Headlines fixated on imagery
  • Commentators invoked 1960s unrest
  • Officials spoke preemptively about “security”

The story was written before the movement could write itself. This is not coincidence.
It is institutional muscle memory.


The Media-State Feedback Loop

Media framing and state response reinforce each other:

  • The media amplifies threat
  • The state responds with force
  • The force generates dramatic footage
  • The footage justifies the original framing

Round and round it goes—until protest collapses under exhaustion or repression.\ What disappears in the process is legitimacy:
the legitimacy of grievance, of demand, of democratic participation itself.


What the Panthers Tried to Do Differently

The Panthers insisted on:

  • Political education
  • Context before confrontation
  • Structure before spectacle

They understood that protest without narrative control becomes raw material for repression. Their failure was not organizational naïveté. It was underestimating how completely media would align with power when legitimacy is threatened.


Why This Still Matters

Democracy depends on dissent being legible—not just visible. When protest is framed as threat:

  • Participation declines
  • Surveillance expands
  • Repression feels reasonable

And the public is taught, subtly but relentlessly, that order matters more than justice.


The Core Question

Who gets to define what protest is?

If the answer is always institutions already in power, then dissent will forever appear dangerous—no matter how justified. The Panthers understood that. Power understood it too. That is why the battle over protest has never been only in the streets. It has always been in the story.


What’s Next

Part 4 will examine how protest movements fracture under pressure—how infiltration, internal conflict, and exhaustion finish what repression begins.

The Black Panthers, Then — and Why They Matter Now (Part 2 of 5)

The Playbook: How the State Responds When Protest Becomes Power


Editor’s Note

Part 1 established why the Black Panther Party emerged and what it built. Part 2 examines the response—and why, more than fifty years later, that response feels disturbingly familiar. This is not about conspiracy. It is about continuity. When protest movements threaten legitimacy rather than policy, the state does not debate them.
It neutralizes them.


From Policing Protest to Policing Politics

The Black Panther Party did not collapse under the weight of internal failure alone. It was systematically targeted, destabilized, and destroyed by the U.S. government using a coordinated strategy that combined surveillance, infiltration, media manipulation, and lethal force. That strategy had a name.

COINTELPRO: Repression With a Memo Header

In 1956, the Federal Bureau of Investigation launched COINTELPRO—a “counterintelligence” initiative aimed at political groups deemed threatening to the status quo.

By the late 1960s, the Black Panther Party became its primary target.

COINTELPRO’s explicit goals included:

  • Preventing the rise of a “Black messiah”
  • Creating internal divisions within organizations
  • Discrediting leaders in the press
  • Provoking violence to justify police action

This was not rogue behavior. It was official federal policy, later exposed and condemned by Congress. The playbook was precise—and repeatable.

Infiltration and Informants

Paid informants were planted inside Panther chapters, often encouraged to exaggerate tensions, spread rumors, or push members toward reckless behavior. Trust eroded. Unity fractured.

Disinformation Campaigns

Fake letters were sent between leaders to provoke paranoia and infighting. Media outlets were quietly fed selective narratives portraying Panthers as violent extremists rather than community organizers.

Targeted Arrests and Legal Harassment

Leaders were arrested repeatedly on minor or fabricated charges, draining resources and time. Legal defense became a full-time occupation.

Coordinated Police Violence

Raids were framed as “law enforcement actions” but functioned as political suppression. The most infamous example remains the killing of Fred Hampton in 1969—drugged, shot in his bed, and posthumously labeled dangerous to justify his death. The message was unmistakable: Organize too effectively, and the rules change.

What Changed After the Panthers?

On paper, everything. COINTELPRO was officially shut down in 1971 after public exposure. Congressional investigations condemned it as unconstitutional. Safeguards were promised.

In practice?
The architecture remained.

Surveillance powers expanded. Policing became more militarized. Protest was reframed as a security problem. The tools were modernized—but the logic endured.

The Modern Playbook

Fast-forward to the 21st century.

Large-scale protests—whether against police violence, government corruption, or economic injustice—now trigger a familiar cascade:

  1. Intelligence Monitoring
    Social media surveillance, fusion centers, and federal-local data sharing track organizers long before marches occur.
  2. Preemptive Framing
    Isolated acts of vandalism are amplified to define entire movements. Peaceful protest becomes “unrest.”
  3. Militarized Response
    Riot gear, armored vehicles, and chemical agents appear not to maintain order—but to project dominance.
  4. Legal Suppression
    Protesters face harsh charges, inflated bail, and drawn-out court processes designed to exhaust participation.

The goal is no longer simply to disperse crowds. It is to discourage organizing itself.

Philadelphia as a Case Study

The recent emergence of Panther-identified organizing in Philadelphia has activated this modern playbook almost instantly. Before any sustained program-building:

  • Surveillance increased
  • Media narratives hardened
  • Political leaders emphasized “law and order”
  • The public conversation shifted from why grievances exist to how dangerous dissent might become

This rapid escalation is not accidental. It reflects institutional memory. The state remembers the Panthers—even when it pretends not to.

Why the Response Is the Same

Because the threat is the same.

The Panthers—then and now—represent:

  • Community autonomy
  • Organized resistance outside traditional party structures
  • A moral challenge to state legitimacy

Governments can absorb protest. They struggle with organized dignity. When communities demonstrate they can feed, heal, educate, and protect themselves—the state’s authority is exposed as optional. That exposure, more than any weapon, provokes repression.


The Real Lesson of COINTELPRO

COINTELPRO was not an aberration. It was a stress test. And when pressured, American democracy chose control over reform. That choice did not end in 1971. It was institutionalized—refined, sanitized, and legally insulated. The question today is not whether repression still exists. It is whether the public recognizes it when it appears wearing riot gear and legal language.

Why This Matters Now

Every generation believes its protest movements are unprecedented. Every government insists its response is necessary. History suggests otherwise. When protest challenges power rather than policy, when it organizes instead of merely expresses,
When it exposes failure instead of requesting change, the playbook comes out.


What’s Next

Part 3 will examine how media framing turns protest into threat—and why controlling the narrative has become as important as controlling the streets.

The Black Panthers Then and Why They Are Coming Back (Part 1 of 5)


From Oakland to Philadelphia: Why the Panther Legacy Still Triggers the State

EDITOR’S NOTE: This series is not about nostalgia, nor about endorsing any modern group by name. It is about history returning—not as repetition, but as warning. When the language, imagery, and moral logic of the Black Panther movement resurface in public life, it is never accidental. It signals that something fundamental has failed again.

That return is no longer theoretical. It is happening in real time—most visibly with the emergence of a new Panther-identified organization in Philadelphia.

To understand why this alarms authorities and fascinates the media, we must first be precise about who the original Panthers were, what they built, and why power moved so forcefully to erase them—and then clearly distinguish that legacy from its modern echoes.

Despite misconceptions, The Black Panther Party of the late 60s and 70s was not primarily a militant spectacle. It was a community survival organization born out of racist policing, economic abandonment, and political neglect.

Yes, the Panthers carried weapons—legally. But they also fed children, ran health clinics, taught political literacy, monitored police behavior, and articulated a devastatingly clear argument: Democracy without equality is theater.

That clarity—more than the guns—is what frightened the state.

Why the Panthers Formed

Founded in Oakland by Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale, the Panthers emerged in response to routine police harassment that Black communities were expected to endure silently.

The Panthers refused.

Using California’s open-carry laws, they conducted armed patrols to observe police behavior and inform citizens of their rights. This was not vigilantism—it was a legal exposure of racial double standards. The state’s response made the point unmistakable: lawmakers rushed to ban the practice. The issue was never safety. It was who was asserting constitutional rights.

An Audit of Democracy

The Panthers’ program demanded:

  • Self-determination
  • Full employment
  • Decent housing
  • Truthful education
  • An end to police brutality
  • Fair trials
  • Freedom for the unjustly incarcerated
  • Land, bread, housing, education, clothing, justice, and peace

These were not slogans. They were measurable failures of the American system, plainly listed.The Panthers shifted from armed patrols to what they called “Survival Pending Revolution”—programs that made neglect impossible to deny:

  • Free Breakfast for Children (later copied by the federal government)
  • Community health clinics offering sickle-cell testing and prenatal care
  • Liberation schools teaching Black history and civic literacy

In many neighborhoods, the Panthers were the social safety net.

Why the State Moved to Destroy Them

The Panthers didn’t just criticize government—they outperformed it. That made them dangerous. The Federal Bureau of Investigation labeled them “the greatest threat to the internal security of the country.” Under COINTELPRO, authorities infiltrated chapters, spread disinformation, provoked internal conflict, and coordinated raids.The 1969 killing of Fred Hampton—shot in his bed during a pre-dawn raid—sent a clear message: effective organizing would not be tolerated.

Fast-Forward: Philadelphia and the Return of the Panther Image

In recent years, Philadelphia has seen the emergence of a group identifying with Panther symbolism, rhetoric, and iconography—often referred to as the New Black Panther Party or a local Panther-aligned formation. This development has triggered familiar reactions:

  • Heavy media scrutiny
  • Law-enforcement monitoring
  • Immediate comparisons to 1960s militancy

The Philadelphia-based Panther-identified group is not the original Black Panther Party. It does not share the same leadership, structure, or political program, and it has been criticized—sometimes rightly—for rhetoric that diverges sharply from the original Panthers’ multiracial, class-based organizing.

The original Panthers:

  • Built coalitions across race and ideology
  • Centered material survival programs
  • Emphasized political education over spectacle

Modern Panther-named groups often:

  • Focus more heavily on symbolism and confrontation
  • Operate in a vastly different political and media environment
  • Trigger rapid state response before mass organizing can occur

So Why Does Power React the Same Way?

Because the symbol still carries a threat.

The Panther image represents:

  • Armed self-defense against abusive policing
  • Community autonomy
  • A refusal to beg for inclusion

Even stripped of its original structure, the imagery alone invokes a historical memory the state never resolved.

The reaction in Philadelphia follows a familiar pattern:

  1. Immediate framing as extremist
  2. Focus on optics, not grievances
  3. Preemptive repression justified by “security”

This is not about endorsing any modern group. It is about recognizing a reflex.


Why This Matters Now

The Panthers reappear—symbolically or literally—when:

  • Communities are abandoned
  • Policing becomes unaccountable
  • Democratic institutions lose legitimacy

History does not repeat. It rhymes and it echoes. The question is not whether today’s Panther-identified groups replicate the original movement. The question is why the conditions that produced the Panthers still exist—and why the state responds with the same fear.


Up Next

Part 2 will examine the government’s counter-strategy—from COINTELPRO to modern protest policing—and why repression, not reform, remains the default response.