This week has elevated every anxiety that lay dormant in me. Covid-19 took a backseat to my biggest fear which is that someone I love, could be killed by the police simple for living. I’m an old school girl, from the projects, where police were not exactly our best friends but it was enough of a cliché that they left us alone if we left them alone. Even more difficult, one officer that I knew most of my adolescent years who was quite tough and friendly, passed away this week leaving me questioning, where are all the good ones?
Right now in America, is it open season on black and brown bodies. Our worth as people has habitually been diminished to hashtags, outrage and protests whenever a rogue cop or cop(s) deem it necessary to execute us for simply living our lives as the America dream tells us we can. WE are being executed while sleeping, while assisting our neighbors, for alleged bad acts (with no level of violence), while driving, while playing, while breathing, while thinking, WHILE DARING TO DREAM or be a part of what is America. I mean, who do we think we are?
Meanwhile, our counterparts are open carrying, spitting on officers, shooting up schools and churches. They are taken into custody without incident. They are given food and water ahead of the anticipated interrogation that will follow. For the arresting officers, that is the “humane” thing to do. With us, it is just another day at the office getting rid of the trash.
We are NOT TRASH. BLACK LIVES MATTER. We are more than hashtags and protests. God has prepared us for this moment. This one. It feels different. People who have not spoken out before, are speaking out. Our sisters and brothers on the other side, are outraged too. The wheels of justice turn slowly, but they turn. This will not be the end. This is the beginning. It had to happen.
War has been declared. We must fight for what is right and fight until we get it! Don’t be a mouthpiece in a conversation. Be an agent of change. This is our window of opportunity and we must act accordingly and do things correctly for it to stick. Legislature has to change! Our people have hurt enough. I want my husband, my brothers, my cousins, my Dad, my nephews, my sisters, my nieces, my aunts, my friends & most certainly my daughters to always make it home or be safe in their own homes. The price of their life is priceless, and that will never change.
This week, I was ANGRY. I was HURT. I CRIED. I SCREAMED. I watched in horror along with everyone else the life of George Floyd slip away. I witnessed racism escalate but I also watched people come together. Today, I am motivated. I have already taken steps to do my share in seeing that this is not a wasted opportunity for change. More information will be posted on that separately.
“At any given moment you have the power to say: This is not how the story is going to end.”
– Christine Mason Miller
One reply on “What is OUR Value?”
The general consensus is indeed that this death, this moment feels different indeed. How will we respond? Was this moment exacerbated by ignorance and people unwilling to yield power to those who have earned the respect and trust of the collective universe? I don’t have the answers regarding how long this toxicity will last, but I have all faith and confidence that this is a fight we cannot and will not back down from. This is a moment in time where we must see this all the way through. As you stated, when we can die at home in our beds asleep, we have nothing to lose. So after the protests have died down, we will continue to fight-our goal is to have policy changes, but equally important, accountability for those who have such a disregard for a black or brown body. If police officers cannot treat black and brown bodies the way they would treat someone who looks like them, then they are not fit to protect and serve anyone. We must begin by withholding our economic power and influence. Then and only then will we have the attention of those who refused to acknowledge our significance. We are ready for the moment!