I had to take some time before I wrote this. Time to allow my anger, rage, confusion, frustration, and sadness to dissipate somewhat before I put these words on my screen, so that I could convey what I feel right now.
With the death of George Floyd by a Minneapolis, MN police officer and the subsequent riots that now rage throughout the nation, and the death Ahmaud Arbery by the McMichaels, the death of Breona Taylor via a poor execution of no knock warrant, the one question that falls in my mind is…
Why is it necessary to end in the fatal conclusion of death?
Why do police treat us differently from our white counterparts?
Why are we treated like savages, even when we express the same rights as our white counterparts?
Why do they continue to treat us as a threat?
Why do our white counterparts fear us so much to the point they would call law enforcement to put us in a deadly situation/confrontation?
Why do the white people that perpetuate these situations use the same “I’m not racist” excuse?
Why aren’t our voices being heard?
Perhaps the answers to these questions lie in the history of this nation. A nation founded on violence and bloodshed. One that enslaved an entire race, and further disenfranchised that race. A nation that believes an entire race is less than human and whose President has inspired those who were “in the closet” for their views of black people, to be more overt with their views… often to devastating consequences. A nation that does not treat all its citizens as equals and does not provide the same protections for black people under the law. And further a nation slow to dispense justice when a black person is killed in a violent fashion by police This is the history of a nation that we live in!
I have seen the effects of police violence on black people. I lost my oldest son to a police officer involved shooting. Every day that eats at me and I wonder what would I have done differently to prevent him from such a cruel fate. Every day I ask why I have received no answers, and for me that is frustrating. I live with the fact his daughter will never see her father. And that hurts me the most. I was powerless to stop or even prevent it.
I have other sons and daughters in this world. I fear for their lives daily because I dread getting another phone call stating something has happened to my child. I do not know if I could bear going through it again, as I have yet to heal from the loss of my oldest.
I have grandchildren that are too young to understand why this is happening, but I hope that they can experience a world that differs from the one I inhabit. I hope that they will know a world where equal treatment is the norm, and no one is inferior.