Screaming Black Lives Matter...
Yet abusers are still trying to define how victims personify this trauma.
I hear, “the revolution is here! We are in midst of a revolution!” shrieking in the distance.
Yet, the revolution has been increasing, not beginning.
Because racial injustice was not written on demolished businesses and displayed through flame engulfed law enforcement vehicles prior, turning a cheek was much simpler in such progressive times .
Now that the abuse is unavoidable, retaliation is a “disruption” to neighborhoods, curfews are in place and soon to be Marshall law implementation, eyes have become wide to the discrimination.
That’s the reality, and how out of touch our nation is on the topic of oppression.
Let’s not forget why we began here:
To bring forth justice.
To honor our slain brothers and sisters who were targeted due to the skin color they were born with.
Ethnicity should be a representation of the diversity that our country should embody.
The same reason that I have been an active member and advocate for equality since 2001.
Before I had the ability to articulate conceptually, my first art creation displayed figures with different skin colors, holding hands on top of a globe holding a sign that read friendship.
As a premature adult, I witnessed my African American best friend fight for his freedom, his rights, and defended his own character every day in a predominantly Caucasian state until the day he died.
To keep composure as a 6 foot 4 inch tall, “black” man while experiencing racial slurs angrily screamed in his face relentlessly by a 5 foot 7 inch tall white man; is something that I could have never endured for as long as he did.
I weep during this very ugly and embarrassing time to call myself an American-born citizen who was raised by immigrant grandparents, and mother.
I mourn that my late, best friend had to live even a day in such oppression just to exert his right to a college education.
After his untimely passing, he was referred to as a “thug” or “that black kid” by Caucasian professors who neither had him in a class nor took the time to understand all that he fought hard against in his short life.
The racial profiling I have endured in my young life does not even compare to the amount that I have witnessed.
My mixed siblings and I would not have ever been in existence if it were still illegal for both my dark skinned mother and fair skinned father to procreate.
We have been given voices, platforms, and plenty of knowledge to make every right count.
One does not have to be directly affected to feel the effects of what our country is becoming.
Do your part.
Sign that petition.
Make that call.
Furthermore, eradicate violence once and for all.
May this fight end in embrace, and not in further demolishment.
Remember where WE came from.
Remember WHY we began protesting in the first place.
We are not saying that “all lives do not matter,” but simply that....
Black Lives Matter Too.