As I sit back reflecting on the riots and destruction taking place in the name of Black lives and how much or little they matter, I am filled with a disruptive rage. Typically overflowing with an unbearable anger that often does my body and mind more harm than good, this fury is slow and steady, simply waiting for the right time and place to implode. Said time seems to be rapidly approaching…
A few weeks ago, I saw social media being oversaturated with images of white protesters. Taking up guns, swords, and other ridiculous props these protesters stood outside in revolt of the shutdowns brought on by Coronavirus. They demanded that the government lift all protective quarantine bans that serve to protect citizens from COVID-19. As this deadly and infectious virus continues to remain the cause of worldwide pandemic, resulting in the untimely death of hundreds of thousands of people around the world, these protesters stood in solidarity. With no need to fear, they remained safe and unafraid of unnecessary police presence because although they were putting many at risk for spreading and contracting the disease, there was an eerie lack of police intervention and opposition. While standing violently in the possession of weapons, these rowdy protesters saw no repercussions or consequences.
Fast forward to today, where again I see an oversaturation in social media, though this time it is filled with Black faces and names. Outraged at yet another senseless Black death caused at the hands of an “officer of the law”. Again we are force fed the same story and given the typical response from another tragic outcome. Taking action into our own hands we join together forming peaceful protests. Armed with nothing but signs of remembrance and solidarity to proclaim our right to exist, we are met with the brute force of officers patrolling in helicopters above, and the deadly release of tear gas and shots of rubber bullets below. The same cops that have ended the Black lives that started this fight are now the same cops who are attempting to prevent us from retaliating and expressing our disappointment and rage. The response is quite different than one given to white people armed with guns and crossbows while protesting against the safety mandates required by a deadly virus.
As I sit back in awe of this stark difference I am blindsided by the additional news of looting, fires, and chaos as it spreads all across the US, and somehow, without having all the details yet, I knew the result would be more violence against Black bodies. I soon learn that it has been white people dressed in black parading around perpetuating such riots, an action they will never be held accountable for, because even while gathered in peace, Black people are still being terrorized, unjustly.
So now once again we are enraged, and yet again we take to the streets in riot. As we push back in the name of revolution we hope that our voices, our pain, our blood, will no longer be taken for granted. We hope that from this moment forward we will finally be given the right to exist. Reclaiming the stolen innocence of Black lives though we are not allotted the privilege of innocence; our mere existence deems us guilty. Due simply to the color of our skin, we are automatically seen as void of innocence and humanity while grocery shopping, taking leisurely walks in our neighborhoods, or even sleeping in our own beds. No matter where we are or what we do, our lives are stolen; we are deemed as expendable.
I am here with the many loudly shouting voices to remind the world that we are not! Our lives carry meaning and purpose far greater than continuously accepting a guilt that is not our own to bear. We deserve the minimum right of human life; they need to stop killing us. No longer shall we be silent. No longer will we sit in the shadows as we are criminalized and gunned down by the system. We are fighting for our existence, while honoring the innocent lives lost due to endless injustices. So keep up the riots, and continue the protest. We will not stop until we are seen, and our issues heard. We are fed up. This is our war cry. We watch it burn so from the ashes we can begin anew.
“Our Lives Matter”-Black People Everywhere
Editor: Catered By Coffey