I Can't Breathe - A Black Man's America

People fed up to how yuh system sheg up.  Every day the ghetto youths dead up – Rodney “Bounty Killa” Price

As a black woman, I am intimately acquainted with this pain.  I carry it in my soul.  I am familiar with how it feels to silently choke on anger while trying not to spiral out of control. I know all too well the quiet prayer of every black mother whenever her black son leaves her presence. I understand what it means to tell my black man that I love him and to be careful every time he leaves the house.  Even though the actual words aren’t said, we both understand the message being conveyed.  This is the reality of black women.

So, when I see the posts expressing that not all police officers or all Caucasians are bad people, I can’t help wondering how this is the only message that these individuals are receiving.  Where is the understanding of the agony in seeing – yet another black man – murdered for public entertainment?  Where is the outcry for the countless acts of brutality and disparagement that occur with regularity?  George Floyd isn’t the first black man murdered by the police and, as agonizing as it is to admit, he won’t be the last.  Yes, my black sons understand that not all police officers are immoral, but how do I teach them to distinguish which are there to serve and protect from those who are motivated by the opportunity to demonize, mistreat and kill black people?  I understand that some of these posts are an attempt to create distance from the hate we all know exists, but it doesn’t make it less real. It simply confirms that you do not understand or care about our pain.

Despite what your hatred allows you to see, the black men I know are the embodiment of strength and resilience.  It takes a lot of strength to get up every day and continue pushing forward despite knowing that there’s an ever-present, hidden pull designed to impede any success. But they do it knowing and accepting that this means they have to work harder than most.  It takes a lot of courage to counter disrespect with civility and, in some instances, even kindness.  Know that this is a true demonstration of strength, not weakness. They understand that hatred is a representation of fear, so they will not reciprocate because they know that to fear is to give up total control. What they have is a clear understanding of the reality they live in. One of the most powerful and explicit examples of a black man’s reality was the recent Central Park incident.  When an individual is able to express the intent to use the color of your skin as a physical threat against them, it clearly states their understanding of how you are perceived – not as who you are as a human being, but as who they have defined you to be.

As a people, we’ve been here before.  The frequency makes this place of hurt feels more like a permanent residence rather than a place we occasionally visit, but somehow this time feels different.  Maybe we’re finally really tired. But it’s still hard to envision a day of healing and true equality anytime in my lifetime.  That knowledge is a burden that I carry – knowing that this is the world that my sons are likely to bring their sons into.  While I’m confident that I have raised them both to be proud of who they are – to live with awareness but not hatred or fear – I pray that this world does not beat that hope out of them.  You see, I understand all too well just how difficult it is to stay focused on the good when you can’t breathe.