Just FYI:
I had planned on posting a picture of Nora’s new turquoise hair because= summer and fun and life, you know?
(And I still might, because it’s downright incredible.)
And while her hair and her face and the life I enjoy with these tiny people buoys me up even in the darkest of feelings, my heart hurts today for the horrific, unfathomable killing of Black folks at the hands of police. It’s not new, although some are way-too recent, but it felt tone deaf and inherently wrong to blog about hair color and peanut butter and Daniel Tiger and dishwasher squabbles today.
And I get it, I do- it’s impossible to hold all of the world’s hurts in your immediate brain space, especially when you feel like it’s not your story to hold, not your pain to champion.
But I owe it to my Black friends to, you know, be their actual friend. The ones who are terrified for their Black sons out there in the world, their Black daughters in the back seat of the car at a traffic stop, for themselves as they go about their day in a society with ever-changing rules on how to behave, carry, not carry, or be in the wrong place at the wrong time (which, sadly, is including a wider and wider swath of “wrong” locales).
And I also get it- it feels really, really uncomfortable to speak up when it’s a close-to-home crime concerning a skin color that you yourself do not have. There’s the risk of appropriation when grieving for humanity. There’s the fear of ignorance when calling out injustices. Risk it. Fear it. Because none of us- none of us- were born free of prejudice and a sense of “other.” But every last one of us has the brain space and heart chambers for bearing witness and growing, learning, and speaking the hell up.
(I one thousand percent count myself among the group of folks who needs to continuing witnessing, growing, speaking. And if you have the ability to click away from these stories- with sadness, yes- but no immediate ramifications for your personal safety, I wholeheartedly and non-judgily invite you to join me.)
I am pro-police, I really am. I have the greatest respect for the law makers, keepers, and enforcers. Not only could I not do their jobs, but I couldn’t imagine doing their jobs, day in and day out. I’m also, however, pro-accountability. I’m wholly for ousting the bad seed, apple, and egg. Solidarity be damned- if you’re a corrupt police officer, accountant, or dental hygienist, you don’t deserve to wield power over those who have none.
A guy selling CDs in front of a store has none.
A guy with a busted tail light has none. (Neither do his inappropriately handcuffed wife, nor his terrified four year-old daughter.)
Here’s what to read:
15 things your city can do right now to end police brutality.
Advice for white folks in the wake of a police murder of a black person.
Here’s how to help:
Donate to the Alton Family Scholarship fund.
(And more to come, I promise.)
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