“Black lives don't matter, black lives don’t matter…” repeats a young and frustrated protestor onto Amy Goodman’s microphone after hearing the news of Mike Brown’s death going unpunished. Wounds hurting, boots marching, things on fire. Obama calls for a peaceful state of disagreement. Military gear, smoke, bombs, gas, rage, bullets, tears, pain, rage, fear, gear, tears, so, much, suffering. "These young people have been betrayed by every level of government" says a reverend standing on the street in Clayton, the morning after Mike Brown's death goes unpunished.
#blacklivesmatter #blacklivesmatter I read over and over on my Facebook and Instagram feeds, the night and morning after hearing the news of Mike Brown’s death going unpunished.
I wish I had something else to offer right now, but all I can feel this morning, reading, watching, and feeling the news, in the face of yet another forgiven injustice, is a deep rooted sadness and a sense of anger that seats at the top of my stomach like a knot or a stone that’s just way too big to swallow.
