It's hard to find words about #GeorgeFloyd, but I'm going to try; for my own sake as much as for anyone who may care to listen. The overwhelming feeling I have is exhaustion, with a cold emptiness as its close companion. *Thread*
My favorite author, James Baldwin, in my favorite book, "The Fire Next Time," put it this way. "You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were black and for no other reason. The limits of your ambition were, thus...
expected to be set forever. You were born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible, that you were a worthless human being... I know your countrymen do not agree with me about this, and I hear them saying "You exaggerate." ...
They do not know Harlem, and I do. So do you. Take no one's word for anything, including mine- but trust your experience. Know whence you came.”
So the coldness I feel is not a lack of regard for human life. It is a coldness that says: this is reality. Today isn't special: it's Tuesday. It's a day in the continuum of time in the United States of America. Which, for black men, means it is dangerous. This shouldn't be news.
Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling...the list goes on, so long that I'm ashamed to say I can't remember them all. The cold deepens when I consider the straight line from Eric Garner to George Floyd: "I can't breathe."
This is why @KingJames; one of the richest, most black powerful men in the world says of the death of Ahmaud Arbery "WE are hunted every day" we step outside of our homes. And, as Baldwin predicted, some say "you exaggerate," that somehow his wealth insulates him...
As if Henry Louis Gates wasn't confronted by police trying to enter his own home. And then the black President, who was dealing with racial invective and epithets on the daily had to apologize for saying police had "acted stupidly."
As @donaldglover says: this is America. This isn't to say it's everyone: I like many people of color have had countless friends and teachers and companions of all races and walks of life who affirmed me and supported me and acknowledged my humanity.
But the through line remains: black people in general, and black men specifically, remain in danger too often in encounters with law enforcement. Too often there is little hope of justice for victims and survivors.
And this is what we see ON TAPE! The craziest thing about #AmyCooper wasn't the purposeful way she put a black man's life in danger: it was that he said he was recording her and she said and DID ALL OF IT ANYWAY! It was a rare removal of the thin veneer covering white privilege.
I believe on a fundamental level that people are good. But I also believe they are comfortable. So for those outraged - especially those whose skin doesn't cause the fear of violence under color of law to shadow their steps, I ask a simple question: What are you prepared to do?
What are you prepared to risk? How uncomfortable are you willing to be?
Because I'm tired. I dare say we're tired. Being black should be neither frightening nor exhausting. And I hear you say again: you exaggerate. To which I say: count the bodies.
Because I'm tired. I dare say we're tired. Being black should be neither frightening nor exhausting. And I hear you say again: you exaggerate. To which I say: count the bodies.
One last thing: if you're still criticizing @Kaepernick7 for kneeling to protest wanton police violence, while an officer kneels on a man's neck unto death, you need to ask yourself a fundamental question: what do you stand for? Hint: it's not the dignity of all human life. /end
