How did we get here? That’s the question I pose to myself. How did we get to a place where we have to rip bandages off, exposing wounds of the past and present? How is it that lives can be lost to police brutality and nothing done about it? I have to ask myself, how did we get here?
Why do I have to worry about what I write in fear of future career goals when my intent is not to be racist but to be honest. To show the disturbance and horror and anger I feel when I think about lives laying slain on the ground, ruled in homicide, yet no indictment…not even an indictment. Innocent until proven guilty, but the case didn’t even go before a jury of my peers.
How can I have faith in a judicial system – in a country that proclaims land of the free – when my brother doesn’t even feel free to walk down the street; a self-proclaimed alien. And how he says he has to keep his cool so that he doesn’t grow in hate.
This is what keeps me up at night.
Numbers and profit are not my main concern. My brother’s mental well-being takes a higher priority. Being in this struggle together takes a higher priority. Fighting for a believing in a cause takes a higher priority.
I won’t ask for forgiveness for sharing too many stories about corrupt systems or people lying hurt or dead on the street or within cells as a result of an abuse of power.
And I’m not even asking for equality. That should be a given. Instead, I’m asking for the decency of decency. Even if the person committed the crime, do they deserve to die? What if that was your brother? What would you think then?
I am my brother’s keeper – in the most literal way possible – and I will fight until I know that he feels safe; that he feels he’s in a society where he can walk down the street without feeling like an alien. That he can operate as a law-abiding citizen and be treated as so; where he won’t be frisked or treated with malice or a in a demeaning fashion simply because of his appearance. I love my brother with all my heart and there is no way I want to see him hurt. And this emotional hurt is now hurting me.
So America – I have one plea. Please just give us our fair chance. Hasn’t it been long enough?