As if we were anything but black.
Wednesday’s events in Charleston, South Carolina are
not solely a hate crime: it was an act
of terrorism. For those of you who have forgotten the actual meaning of the
word, terrorism is defined as a deliberate act of violence against civilians by
individuals or organizations for political purposes. Labeling this a hate crime
alone will probably get the offender a few years behind bars to sharpen his or
her bias, a relative pittance of a fine, and in parts of the South, a handshake
for a job well done. Sad, but true; in the years since President Obama swore on
that Bible in 2009, racial tensions have clearly magnified to levels unseen in
my lifetime.
I'm just being real. America doesn't legitimately care about black people unless we're entertainment or cooning for Massa. #BlackTwitter
— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) June 18, 2015
Notice the parallels in the 1963 bombing at
Birmingham’s Sixteenth Street Baptist Church and Wednesday night at Emmanuel
AME Church. You would think that in 2015, we would have evolved past such vile
hatred and violence.
#neverforget the four little girls who died in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham 51YA today. pic.twitter.com/tfVjgNqG8Z
— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) September 15, 2014
Yet we ricochet from one tragedy to the next. Once
the scab nearly heals over from one incident, it is ripped off again and again
to be further exposed to a potential infection. I’m tired of the pain.
Actually, fuck that pain; this is
anger.
Why am I angry?
If I need to spell it out any further, I would have
entered the adults’ spelling bee. I am furious that in 2015, my skin and
baritone voice are both enough to “intimidate” – rather, induce animosity
toward me. I’m hated for my skin; denigrated by both sides for the education
and articulate thoughts; harassed for driving nice cars; followed to the
outskirts of town by the bigots in blue; accused of driving down the property
values in the subdivision we reside; seeing former white girlfriends disowned
by their families as a result of their relationship with me; being shadowed in
clothing stores; and a litany of other issues. Whoever said being black in
America is easy clearly is clueless about the black experience.
I am angry because I don’t have another cheek to
turn. The laws in this state and nation [read:
Stand Your Ground when used by George Zimmerman and Marissa Alexander,
and the open carry gun laws those zealous Second Amendment cowboys worship].
Watch the double standard of race that American gun laws maintain. Even in
California – supposedly the most socially liberal state in the union – passed
the Mulford Act with help from the NRA and a racist Gov. Ronald Reagan. Shortly
after the Civil War, Arkansas passed a series of laws preventing gun ownership
by freed blacks. If ever a time to exact revenge, that was it. That fear – well,
and their wives and daughters taking black penis - must be what keep racist
white men awake at night.
Maybe... pic.twitter.com/C0zp9tlgrx
— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) June 12, 2015
If Congress couldn’t pass legislation for gun
control measures after Sandy Hook, you damn sure know nothing will happen now
that nine Americans were slaughtered in a black church.
As if we were anything but black.
I have to do it. You rape our women and take our country. And you have to go. - Dylann Roof
Sound familiar? I personally equate the Tea Party with the Klan because of its “take back our country” quips; days like these show no distinguishing difference between the two groups. I know there are black Tea Partiers, but keep in mind there were Jews in the German concentration camps exterminating their fellow countrymen. Crimes such as these are not so much to punish the victims as a drive-by shooting would, but to send a strong message to “their kind” generally. That is genetic attribution: compare this with Ferguson or Baltimore.
This is the world I am
afraid to leave behind for my four-month-old daughter.
The one which when she
enters puberty is automatically labeled a troublemaking adult whereas her white
classmates can enjoy the privilege of being children. The kind of place that
won’t let her fish or swim freely at Hurricane Lake Estates even with her
friends who live there. The world that makes mockery of her blackness and calls
her slanderous names. Or hearing the “affirmative action” tag (ex. oh, you’re
the affirmative action hire/AP student/Ivy Leaguer/etc.) as if she isn’t able
to succeed on her own merits. The world we live in still treats black Americans
like second-class citizens fifty years after the Civil Rights Act was signed by
President Johnson.
One hundred fifty years
ago today, the last slaves gained their freedom in Galveston, Texas. Today,
many of us do not know the true taste of freedom. We’ve given up so much, been
foisted a bill of goods by the government and greedy landowners,
psychologically damaged to the point of being undesirables, emaciated at will,
and our hard work – and rightful property – stolen like a thief in the night. This
nation cheered on Arab Spring last year, yet America is terrified of a Black
Spring.
As if we were anything but black.
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