“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.” – The Declaration of Independence
A Black man was lynched in America yesterday.
When I was a girl, growing up in the great and very, very, hot state of Texas I was introduced to the vast and wide topic of American Civics. In the most Texas of all Texas moves, our 6th grade First Term extra credit project was to memorize the entire Declaration of Independence. I remember struggling to recall which injustice of King George came after which, these little details getting lost in the monotony of many tiny letters bunched together across stale pages, being droned over by a very bored, middle-aged man who would probably rather be working on his playbook than lecturing to a room of sleepy, unamused pre-teens. I, however, was riveted. As someone who has always loved words and verse most of all, the poetry in it called to me. The words “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness” spoke to me on a visceral level. I would, no lie, read these to myself repeatedly, imagining the mindset of a people tired of tyrannical rule, desperate for a new beginning, shouting out “WE STAND” against a gathering ocean of adversity. “This is my country; this is who we are” I would think with pride in my eleven-year-old heart.
A Black man was lynched in America yesterday.
We are, all of us, living our lives as we see fit and while we might disagree on how someone else lives their life or what they do with their time, we mostly agree that all people are entitled to their own “being” as they design and that no one can take your life at will. We bemoan innocent victims of tragedies and gnash our teeth at lives snuffed out in their prime. The cheerleader whose misdirected rebellion landed her in the seat of a speeding and now overturned Chevy is buried by her hometown in a pink casket; her final sendoff taking place on the football field so she can pass under the lights one last time. The brave Mother who carried her baby at immeasurable risk, her last act ushering them into the world as she was leaving, receives our condolences along with sponsorships for her husband and GoFundMe’s for the baby she loved enough to die for. We give these things instinctively, unquestionably. There are questions and prerequisites for brown and black bodies, though. More so for those brown bodies murdered by white hands in blue uniforms. What was he doing? Where were her parents? Why would he run? Why didn’t she comply? Are there more facts we do not know? Have we examined the other side? As if there is another side to the consistent and systematic terrorism and slaughter of a people. George Floyd was suspected of writing a bad check and was sitting on top of a car. The responding officers thought he might be inebriated. At some point, they drag the already under arrest Floyd from the police car and pin him to the ground- three grown men on his prone body- one with his knee on his neck. What follows is ten minutes of torture as a man is literally smothered in broad daylight, on a busy street, in front of bystanders. None of the men doing it looks impressed, all are moving with precision and direction. All their actions rehearsed, all their faces, dead. I have added the link to the video here and while I cannot ask you to watch another man die, I encourage you to do so. Watch each excruciating moment as this bouncer- a man accustomed to moving bodies, attempts to instruct the men handling his own. Watch as he begs and pleads for his life. Watch each second as he struggles. Watch each restricted breath and listen to each cry for his mother. Watch the crowd begging, urging, inciting these men to stop, to help, to protect. Watch how it does not matter, do not look away. This is the “other” side. https://www.facebook.com/darnellareallprettymarie/videos/1425398217661280/
I understand the need to dig for more, to find some motivation for tragic circumstances, to look away. It’s hard to look away when you know that statistically black and brown folks are 2.5 times more likely to be shot by police in encounters than their white counterparts. Further, it becomes harder to look away when you realize that not only is the current system more dangerous for yourself and people that look like you, our fellow citizens are complicit in making it so.
Around the same time as the Floyd murder video began surfacing, I also watched the video I’ve affectionately titled “Amy in the Brambles”. In this video, Amy Cooper, a white woman, is seen arguing with Christian Cooper (no relation), a black man who asked her to abide by the leash laws. While he is filming and isn’t acting aggressive or confrontational towards her at all, Amy does what White Women have been doing since men decided that “White” was a racial category and not a color; weaponized her Whiteness and threatened to call the Police. More than that, though, with a boasting tone and a little dance Amy says, “I’ll call the Police….. and I’m going to tell them an African American man is threatening my life.” Make no mistake; Amy knows what she is doing. Amy is a well-educated and well-heeled woman. She is not oblivious to her privilege and power as she later claimed, she basks in it! Listen to the waver she puts in her voice when she connects with the probably white sounding 911 operator. Her actions are deliberate; HE a black man was beneath her a white woman and SHE was going to show him. How did she “show him”? By calling the Police an institution that without any question, in an emotionally charged situation, she was sure would be on her side. I’m sure Amy wasn’t actively taught that the Police are a Tool for white people, but still, Amy has learned this lesson well as have the now countless “canceled” men and women who have been caught on camera reducing the American Police force to a vast band of Overseers. This experience is indicative of why there is always a rush to find fault in the black victim of white violence; The rush to find the moment the black body stepped out of place. The moment where they earned it. If they can feel that this act of violence, however harsh, was somehow earned they can then ignore that nagging feeling of sameness with the perpetrators. Here they can push the mirror away, deflecting it with calls for compliance, and understanding the fear in others and a gentle reminder that All Lives Matter. Make no mistake; Our lives only matter in the instances we are inspiring, or magic, or fierce or agreeable. Not when we are bleeding. Not when we are dying at your hands, never then.
A Black man was lynched in America yesterday.
One of the Hallmarks of our Nation is our commitment to Liberty. Our favorite myths, our favorite songs and traditions revolve around our promise of Liberty for each of us. The persistent insistence for Liberty that is constantly in the public discourse is in immediate discord with the endless stream of black blood spilled doing the most basic things. Just men and women, going about the course of their natural lives; George Floyd was attempting the banal task of writing a check and a mistake, someone assuming something about him that turned out to be untrue and against all evidence we have of his character, cost him his life. The smallest misunderstanding on the part of a white person is escalated tenfold in so many situations one must genuinely wonder in which instances of one’s life are POC allowed to experience true Liberty? Certainly not cashing a check, riding in a car, walking home from the store, defending one’s home or sleeping in one’s bed. It too cannot be found while shopping or jogging or researching a home to purchase. Not in our childhoods, either as playing with toy guns- a pastime for children for as long as we’ve had sticks, riding in cars with your parents and sitting on your own bed are reasons you can be ripped from this world, being seen as and handled as eventual threats from early childhood and beyond. We live in the neighborhood that hosts the best school in all our State. My partner must consider what color shirt he wears when jogs on our street, lest he be considered dangerous or threatening. If we are forced to consider constantly what we might be perceived as during the course of a regular day, how then do we contemplate goals and ideas outside the scope of our vision? We cannot, not fully. Instead, we are forced to contend with our Limited Liberty and then told we are wrong for not being satisfied with these meager offerings, with these half-lived lives. That we are somehow less American for crying out at its unfairness when we are only seeking to hold this Country accountable to the promises it makes.
A Black man was lynched in America yesterday.
And lots of us are heartsick. To watch another filmed murder at the hands of another officer tasked with protecting the people he is menacing as his silent friends look on was a straw too many, a blow too far. Thousands have left the comfort of their homes and are filling the streets to shout George’s name and they are being met with calls of peace and a coming together of minds because we somehow associate silence with peace and complacency with happiness. That a nation that shows disregard for the lives of its people can be considered peaceful is a cruel joke- a blatant lie and clear propaganda. We are not happy; we are not peaceful. Already there are investigations on the Federal level and calls to have the case examined by the DOJ and I remain unmoved. Far too often we have been placated by the soothing lure of “justice” to find that several months later, after the tension and calm has passed and the protests have stopped and the marching has ceased, that justice would have been our brother still breathing and any punishment meted out to his murderers is simply collective whiteness recoiling at the monster it created. I say again; I am unmoved by a Nation that has watched these videos, lamented about their wrongness and then continued on about their day while I cried, quietly, holding my son and silently pleading with the universe that my name is never the last word he cries, struggling. I am unmoved by it’s false cries for reconciliation and recompense and I remain unmoved at it’s flailing attempts at equality. A Black man was lynched in America and I, for one, say we let it burn.
Well said, it was a modern day lynching like so many before George. It breaks my heart that while I worry about my son doing well in school, you will worry about your children being safe for every minute they’re not with you.