I havent come here in awhile. It’s not that I forget, it’s
that I get busy trying to live, until I don’t. I forget that writing is where I
heal.
My heart hurts. If you’ve never something that allows you to
understand this expression, that gives me a small joy. When I say “my heart
hurts” it physically feels as if there is a weight on my chest, pressing,
making it hard to breathe. The oxygen is sucked from your system, as you gasp
for air, trying for two seconds to find joy, peace, hope.
If you’re reading this in the future, today is May 29, 2020.
You will read about this year in your history books, once the anthropologist shift
through the overwhelming log of data, once the psychologists study the effects,
once the scientists find cures, and once the world finds peace, once the writers
write, and the artists create.
You will reach about the worldwide pandemic of this year, and
global economic devastation. You will read about how some governments went to
testing, and safety measures. You will read about how the year started with “Great
Gatsby” parties and celebrations, and about how soon Australia was on fire. Now,
we play apocalypse bingo games because dark humor helps us survive. I’m sure
psychologists will have some studies for you to read on that.
You will also read about the protests and riots. I hope that
if you’re reading this in the future, you can say, “What is racism” and you can
say “Wow, I cant believe it was like that”. I hope that when you read it in the
future, the idea is as insane an appalling to you- as sacrificing humans to
appease volcanoes is to us.
But for today, I want you to feel the physical pain when I say
“my heart hurts.” See, when I said earlier that its “hard to breath” – this week
a man was murdered by police officers, while it was being recorded, as he said “I
can’t breathe.” The officers, were fired,
but only after the public started protesting, and when they weren’t charged
with murder, protests quickly became anger and riots.
He wasn’t just a man, he was a black man. I hope that’s not
relevant to you, but it is to this moment in time.
You will have read about the civil rights movements, and MLK
an Malcolm X. See, a lot of people think that racism just went away after that,
but it didn’t. So here we are, 52 years later, barely a generation later. Still
shouting about injustice.
And people say it doesn’t’ still happen. I could sit here an
throw out names upon names. I could chant “hands up” “I cant breath” over an
over, but if you’re reading this in the future, you know those names. You want
to know why and what it feels like in this moment. What led us to this?
Years and years of systematic injustice, inadequate
education, poverty, and poor access to good nutrition and medical care? Oh, and
years an years of saying “we can’t talk about that.” All of those things lead
to one thing.
The truth is, hurt. Hurt is what led us to this. See,
through the last few years, there were peaceful protests…but people didn’t like
the way things were being protested. There was a big ugly debate over whether
people should kneel during the National Anthem. And then, came 2020.
See, when the pandemic started, other countries started
locking down, calling out safety measures, an social distancing, shutting down cities,
and coming to a standstill, so that the Covid-19 wouldn’t spread. Here, in the
United States, somehow it got turned into a political game. I won’t go into
that, because I’m sure you have a whole other chapter in your history book that
covers that disaster.
But, here’s where it’s important. People started protesting
the lockdown measures as states started. The protesters showed up armed, but
police officers didn’t even bother with riot gear. Now fast forward, states
have barely started to open back up. In the course of well, a couple of months;
George Floyd was killed, police busted
into the home of Breonna Taylor, which turned out to be the wrong house by the
way, anyway, she was killed, by the way, the suspect that the police were
looking for when they killed Breonna, was already in custody. Ahmed Aubrey, a
young black man was running, out for a jog, and was gunned down. There’s video
of that too. There’s also video of a Caucasian woman calling the police on a
non-threatening black man, and telling 911 that her life was being threatened.
When police showed up at the protests that started happening
over the murders, they turned up in riot gear, for protestors that didn’t have
weapons.
So last night, when I stayed up watching the protests turn
violent live, I’ll tell you what I saw. I saw a Columbus Police officer punch a
man who was screaming at him from behind a barricade. I saw protestors throw water,
and water bottles, and police respond with tear gas. I cried as I saw the beautiful
statehouse getting windows broken out, and the original glass of the Ohio
Theatre busted.
I cried for my hurt brothers and sisters. My hurt cousins. I
cried, because I know the stories of my family. I cried for our world. I cried for my home
city. I cried because I know that someone in history has to be the soul that
bears witness. I cried because I didn’t like what I was seeing, but I felt the
rage.
When Billie Holiday sang “Strange Fruit” in 1959, she was
crying for change. When Marvin Gaye sang “What’s Going On” in in 1971; When Tupac
rapped “Changes” in 1998; When Michael Jackson sang “They don’t really care
about us” in1997 (I think that’s the year)
there was a common theme, a common thread. It was begging. “Please see
and hear our message. Give us equal opportunity in the country we helped build.
Stop being scared and stereotyping us because of the color of our skin.”
Because even in the future, I don’t think human nature will
have change, you will have probably been hurt by someone you love. Sometimes,
hurt turns to anger. That’s what’s happening here.
Some people blame the current president, an some blame
social media, an the mainstream media. But really, those things aren’t the
issue. This problem has been here a long long long time. The current president
just enabled people who already felt that way to feel good and united that they
felt these things were okay. It made them feel okay, like they didn’t have to
hide. Social media and the media forced
the issue out to the forefront where it doesn’t get to hide in the shadows
anymore.
I guess you could say, it’s a shit show, and me, my heart
will continue to hurt, but like any other muscle it will grow stronger, and I
will keep bearing witness.
