It’s the second day in a row I’ve awoken to tears in my eyes. Face hot to the touch they almost rise like steam into the room refueling my breath with the frustration of those with skin like mine.
It’s the second day in a row I’ve wished I could unknow what I know. I wanted to stop drawing comparison to the dystopian “Hunger Games” narrative. What for all it’s white woman mascot, whose revolution really began with the death of a Black child.
It’s the second day I’ve wanted to scream and cry and do SOMETHING to acknowledge my hurt over ignorance that is still allowed to win over peace and understanding.
It’s the second day I’ve wondered how this degree or my current path helps to solve these issues. How involved I will make myself in politics policy and government? How my work my purpose brings any kind of healing to these wounds.
It’s the second day I’ve wondered whether this makes me want to marry a Black man more or less? Is the risk of bringing more Black children into the world too high? Do they have a better chance of survival if they have another culture to take refuge in? Is that what “they” want me to think?
It’s the second day I’ve considered the impact of hundreds of years of slavery racism and bigotry on a people. And considered her words, “it is unforgivable. I can’t ever find a way to forgive that.”
It’s the second day I’ve been incensed with White America. And this doesn’t solely include white people. But all who buy into the superiority of one race over another. When you would dare to see the light only in one and the darkness only in others; It’s a choice.
Will a third day come? Or a fourth?