Once again, here we are. Once again, I have to think about the safety of my children. No, it never goes away. Every day, I have to wonder if my son will be killed at a traffic stop. I have to wonder if my daughter will be shot in her
If you aren’t ready for this conversation, it’s okay. None of us want to look at the things that make us uncomfortable. Violence. Murder. Police Brutality. It’s okay to not be ready, but it’s not okay to look away.
All of it, makes my skin crawl. I hurt when I see anyone being treated unfairly, but I bleed when it happens because they look like me. Truth be told, I started bleeding a long time ago.
The first puncture wound I remember was when my white neighbor would tell her children to call me N***** every day when I walked past their house on my way to school. I was about 6 years old. The hole got bigger when the white school counselor told me that I would never graduate from high school and she then attempted to enroll me in remedial classes. The blood continued to seep out as I sat in my high school math class waiting anxiously for my final semester grade. Imagine my surprise when the white football player who cheated over my shoulder all semester received a B and I failed the class. The more blood I lost, the harder it became to breathe.
Yeah, breathing has been problematic my whole life. Those are just the ordinary citizens, but the day my car was pulled over for not having my lights on, that was when the choking began. FIVE officers surrounded my car because “I could not possibly be the owner.” I was a threat though, black, unarmed, female, 5’4, 120 pounds. I get it. Each car spotlighted mine. You may be thinking, “no guns were drawn,” you’re wrong. Systematic racism is pulled on black people without hesitation and without provocation. And it kills. Literally.
They say if you can still speak, then you can breathe. I am using all the breath I have left to pray up, speak up, and try to get up.
If you’re feeling like I am, let me share two scriptures with you that has been my comfort. Let me be clear, I am not comfortable, but God comforts me.
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day. Psalm 91: 2,3,5
Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me. Isaiah 49:16
I may not know how God will fix this, but I believe He will! I pray for the leaders and governmental authorities who have sent the message that I am not as valuable as the white man I married. I pray for those who have received that message and taken it as a license to oppress and murder. I pray for those who are still looking away. I pray for those who don’t have the privilege to look away because their loved ones are dead. And I pray for those who, like me, can’t breathe.
Strengthen. Heal. Empower.
