Like the social justice causes themselves, the topic of social justice can be a complex one to tackle in a museum setting. This is especially true when talking about social justice in the broader context as opposed to individual causes. In essence, it’s important to do justice when talking social justice. The San Jose Museum of Art’s exhibition is a refreshing take on the subject. Rise Up! Social Justice in Art from the Collection of J. Michael Bewley is a nuanced perspective on the fight for justice and the trials, tribulations, and triumphs that come along with it.

Upon seeing the exhibition’s title, I thought the works would be more celebratory and uplifting in nature. However, one of the show’s opening works, Five Times for Harvey, sets a different tone. Five Times is a set of five drawings by Robert Arneson, created in memory of Harvey Milk. The title is a reference to the five gunshots that killed Milk, who was a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and California’s first openly gay elected official. Milk’s assassination sent shockwaves through the Bay Area and especially through the LGBT community. Arneson’s work captures a range of emotions: Milk’s smiling face in the five drawings is juxtaposed with spiteful words and contrasting streaks of color. In an interview about this work, J. Michael Bewley points out that words like ‘deviant’ were used against Milk like weapons (and they’re still all too familiar for the LGBT community). In one of the drawings, the words ‘bang bang’ are visible–a reference to the weapon that ended Milk’s life. The fifth drawing in the series features Milk with a star superimposed on his face, a nod to his legacy. By displaying the politically charged Five Times from the very start of the exhibition, the San Jose Museum of Art does not shy away from controversy or dark moments in this region’s past.

The exhibition includes other works by California artists including Sadie Barnette and Enrique Chagoya. Barnette’s Untitled (Palm Tree) brought me back to a recent exhibition of her work at the Manetti Shrem Museum titled, Dear 1968,… The solo show highlighted the FBI file of the artist’s father, Rodney Barnette, who was extensively surveilled for his role in the Black Panther Party. Like the accented and bedazzled FBI COINTELPRO pages, Untitled (Palm Tree) also features bursts of color juxtaposed with an iconic symbol.

Meanwhile, Enrique Chagoya’s work, Hand of Power (Mano Ponderosa), addresses the United States’s iron-fisted presence in the Gulf War. A smaller brown hand is partially submerged in blood that simultaneously gushes from its palm. Meanwhile, a much larger, dominating hand is dotted with symbolism as it spurts oil. With these hands, Chagoya utilizes symbols of the military, American pop culture and casualties to paint a picture of the United States’s involvement in a bloody conflict for oil.

Other works such as Dorothy Cross’s Eyecamera raise questions about gaze and the notion of a photographic truth. Translucent Poem Girl by Lesley Dill hits home in the context of #MeToo, women’s voices, and vulnerability. And Alison Saar captures strength and struggle in Deluge, a recognition of hair’s significance in the African American community. Another work by Arneson titled I’m looking for you, Whitey also felt right at home in the exhibition and in the context of Black Lives Matter. The striking image burns with intensity, tension and vigilance. The fact that the work, created in 1989, is still relevant today is a reminder that we have a long way to go.

The exhibition concludes with a platform for taking action by way of education. The For Freedoms Reading Library is located at the end of the galleries. The small reading area has a selection of relevant written works. The titles cover topics from feminism to race. In addition to the books, there are accompanying reading lists curated for different age groups. This partnership between the museum and the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Library seemed like a thoughtful way to finish the show. After all, it’s one thing to bring up all these issues. It’s another thing to go a step further by connecting the audience–regardless of age–with opportunities to educate themselves and engage on a deeper level. It’s a call to action.

Overall, I enjoyed Rise Up! because it captured a range of emotions as opposed to an overwhelming sense of despair or of triumph. While I initially expected a more positive show, I’m glad it wasn’t. In all honesty, I enjoyed the rawness (and even turmoil) of the works. While a goal of social justice is to uplift the marginalized and disenfranchised, the journey is neither easy nor is it pretty. There is anger, passion, survival, chaos, pain, frustration and so much more. But deep down in the shared struggle there is a sense of community. Rise Up! resonated with me because it went to the heart of what I’m feeling as a minority in this country. There was both a reassurance and a grave reminder in what the exhibition showed: that I am not alone and that I haven’t been alone.

For more on Rise Up! and J. Michael Bewley, check out the exhibition catalog. It was a useful resource for learning more about the inspiration for this show and it was a helpful source for writing this review.

Rise Up! Social Justice in Art from the Collection of J. Michael Bewley is on display until September 30, 2018 at the San Jose Museum of Art.