#nmos2014

Our vigil was organized quickly by a UC San Barbara student. We gathered at 1600 at Ché Café on the UC San Diego campus in La Jolla. The mood was somber; words weren’t enough. We were prodded to speak but an NBC camera was in the vicinity so we remained stoic. Two minutes of silence with a news camera in the room can seem like an eternity especially since the duration was filled with thoughts of narratives the press had already formulated about protesting for justice.

I show up to these vigils because of my personal unrest when tragedy strikes: What do I tell my babies? The echo chamber really never stops after you hear the first newscast. If the world is telling them they are nothing, how do I make them believe they are something? Who can tell me? There are millions of successful black mothers who have successful black children and, still, nothing but the echoes. Why are there echoes? Because black women are never asked to speak about their black sons, space is appropriated to black men as they are the ones who were victimized. But if we are all connected, and I would argue one cannot be more connected than mother and child, then why can’t a black man’s mother tell the story of her love?

The vigil was good for my soul. I got to be vociferous in the disappointment I felt about the false equivalencies of looting and taking a human life. I was loud about not wanting to be calm—this isn’t a time for calm—this is a time for demanding answers and nothing gets me through a day like a shot of adrenaline from legitimate fear and loathing. Nothing but loathing for a system of oppression that continues to give me a narrative about my existence that I know to be completely untrue. And fear of what that system has in store for my children. How do I love them through yet another dead black body—as we’re still not seen as people. How do I navigate them away from the idea that riot is not warranted in the loss of a life but totally worth it at a hockey game? When do you just hug them and when do you cry out to them that they are worth something? Why don’t we ever ask the mothers, the women who raised these brilliant children struck down in their prime, these questions? We all need to know the answers. Can we start a dialogue?

Yours In Justice,

"Black Rage"

Dear Fellow White People:

I get it, you're not racist.

You'd never say a racist thing.

You've donated time/money/tweets/food/awareness/etc to the situation in Ferguson.

You're really deeply sorry that Mike Brown was shot and killed.

You deeply deplore the thick, virulent racism in the USA and are working to end it as best you can.

And your feelings are hurt when PoC toss out casual comments about white people being shitty.

"BUT NOT ME," you want to say. "I AM NOT LIKE THAT. I AM ONE OF THE GOOD ONES."

Here's the thing.

Most POC have like five million negative interactions with white people for every positive one. Obviously, I've pulled this number completely out of my ass, but still.  When they speak in sweeping generalizations it's because they've been hurt badly and SYSTEMICALLY by INSTITUTIONALIZED RACISM.

And your hurt feelings are a drop in the bucket compared to that.

Insisting that people who are hurt/wounded/grieving/angry stop what they're doing to center YOUR hurt feelings and needs and coddle you is really selfish and arrogant.

Mike Brown was murdered while walking down the street and his killer, supported by his coworkers and supervisors, was encouraged to scrub his social media presence and flee the state "for his safety." His parents are burying him in the ground as the police officers who should have kept him safe are burying his reputation and labeling him a thug and a thief.

If you are a white person it is HIGHLY unlikely that you will be targeted by the cops, that you - or your kids- will be shot and killed simply because you had the temerity to walk down the public street in your own town.

And going up to people who live with that DAILY, going up to people who are angry and grieving, people who are VERY aware that they may not see their kids live to adulthood because the people supposed to protect them will murder them, going up to those people and demanding they consider YOUR feelings and YOUR contributions?

That's not being an ally.

That's demanding special recognition for achieving the basic level of human decency, which isn't very decent at all.

This is not the time to worry about the hurt feelings and neglect of white people, or to start reminding everyone how there's white protestors in Ferguson and there were white protestors who stood with MLK. Now is not the time to center the conversation on white people, to demand to be catered to and be paid attention to.

If you are white and an ally/anti-racist, the appropriate thing to do is broadcast the voices of the people directly affected by this and support them. Listen and support. Don't speak for them or over them. Listen and support. BE an ally in truth, be strength and comfort... don't demand strength and comfort by people being attacked and ground down. That's super shitty.