Tuesday, May 12, 2020

The Crime of Being




I refuse to watch that video of Brother Ahmaud being slaughtered in the middle of the day like a young suckling pig caged next to his final resting place – the offset smoker.


Racist White people (and bootlicking house Negroes not to mention prejudiced people of color who benefited from their own brand of privilege who have their own documented histories of anti-Blackness) revel in Black pain as if that is the only part of our humanity they want to see.

Not the graduations.

Not the marriages and births.

Not the day we become homeowners.

Not the relief that comes from overdue promotions and raises from our jobs.

Not the day we set sail from the corporate plantation to open our own small businesses.

Not the days when our babies are photographed standing next to the front door on their very first days of school.

Not the smiling faces on vacation with sand between the toes and pitchers of Miller Lite flowing on cruise ships and in casinos like milk and honey.

Not the jubilation when an individual makes his or her decision to join the Christian faith and secure eternal life. (More on that below)

Only death and distraught faces matter to them – and the dastardly agents of malice would ask if we forgive them for taking away a brother, a coworker, a friend, a relative, a neighbor, etc. Have they no shame?

The real reason why I refuse to watch Brother Ahmaud’s lynching is that the motherfuckers who did will more than likely get away with it because this is how the American justice system is set up. One can also agree that his very own being “in the wrong place” is what set him up for this fate, but let us play devil’s advocate:  In a free-ish nation for Black people since approximately 1973 or so, the laws established in this nation have not always been used to our advantage – rather, survival. Surely a man jogging through a neighborhood is not cause for extrajudicial attention, but sadly, it is – and I have my own experiences to share: 





While I understand that jogging in basketball shorts and an A-shirt is not a good look now, it was hot that morning! The officer did give me a ride back to our apartment in the front seat of his Crown Vic, and I ultimately changed my route for a westward one. I know it seems funny to a number of you that I used to be in decent shape considering the affable fat guy I am today, but maybe the older white people in a ‘prominent’ gated community saw a young Black man jogging and stopping in front of new construction to catch a breath and assumed I was up to no good. Kind of what Greg and Travis McMichael and their other buddy thought of Ahmaud.
I know how close I’ve been to becoming a hashtag. THIS IS WHY I TELL MY STORIES.

Ask the Avon PD.

Ask the Conway PD.

Y’all know the Haskell PD terrifies me.

If being Black is a crime, then dammit, I’m guilty as charged.

For 401 years, we sang songs. We complied. We went to school. We stayed on our side of the tracks. We dressed nicely. We drank from the tainted water fountains we were relegated to. We were often more highly educated and financially savvy than our limited occupations would leave one to believe. We hugged it out. We extended invitations to the proverbial cookout. We protested peacefully. We stayed home during COVID-19. We shared the culture. We even embodied LOVE AND FORGIVENESS. As a matter of fact, we played nice with our respectability conduct. Where has that gotten us in 2020?

Dead and bloated, to paraphrase the late Stone Temple Pilots frontman Scott Weiland.


Speaking of being, I want everyone to note the not-so-coded descriptions of both victim and perpetrators alike. “Good Christian men” has become quite the misnomer – what if Ahmaud had also professed the faith years ago? Is he eligible for eternal paradise, or is that reserved only for a paler Southern hue with the trappings that a career in law enforcement (or in some cases, being adjacent to the good ol’ boy culture of white privilege)? These days, “good Christian men” is code for white supremacists not so much as to not break rank in protecting their own but also to reinforce their unspoken racial conduct of being above the laws written to control everyone else. As the slandering of Mr. Arbery by prosecutors, judges, the media, politicians waiting to capitalize their fifteen seconds of fame, Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp, President Donald Trump, and others revs up, be prepared for an onslaught of how our own neighbors, coworkers, friends, and even family members view these events from their narrow prisms and if necessary, remove them from our lives.

I can’t do this shit anymore. Fuck that, I WON'T do this shit.
If seeking peace by using a peacemaker is the way to get my message across, then so be it.

If taking our collective dollars out of the economy gets people to pay attention, then so be it.

If pointing out inconvenient truths in American history is enough to end friendships or get whiny-ass, bitch-ass snowflakes in my mentions talking about I hurt their feelings or I’m being racist, then FUCK YOU. I PUT THAT ON EVERYTHING.

I’m not going to wait and be a sucker nor will I risk my loved ones.

What I WILL DO is tell my five-year-old daughter this:

Live freely.

Dream big.

Jog like Ahmaud.

Chill like Botham and Atatiana.

Play your music to your heart’s content like Jordan.

Walk wherever your feet take you like Mike.

Give God all of His praises like the Charleston Nine.

Eat Skittles and drink Arizona tea like Trayvon.

Shop like John.

Read like Keith.

Breathe like Eric.

Exercise your Second Amendment rights like Philando.

Be the change this world sorely needs.

You are BLACK, BEAUTIFUL, AND PROUD.

Not only are you our Little Bear, but you are also God’s child.

No one has the audacity to take that away from you. 



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