Why I Can’t Stay…

In 2012, when George Zimmerman killed Trayvon Martin, I realized that I had better tell my son that he is black because the world would see him that way, and if something awful happened to him, they would blame him, no matter who was actually at fault. I realized that I had done him a great disservice by allowing him to be “himself” which seemed absurd to me, but instantly true. It did not matter how he saw himself, how he felt himself, it only actually matter how the world saw him because his life could very well be at danger based on something very arbitrary that he did not chose but was definitely my fault. I felt guilty. And believed that he blamed me. And if he did, in a childish way, he should. And neither of us were to blame, it was society. We lived like this. In this fear and blame, and learned to cope.

Earlier this year, a McKinney officer lost his mind and decided to attack a half-naked girl, and a fear resurged in me so fresh that it caused me to speak openly and publicly because I could not stand idly. I was about to leave the country. Open carry nuts were threatening. I couldn’t care, I would have to risk it because now, I could see, not only my son was openly, vocally fearful, but *I* had to fear for my daughter. I had to fear for her virtue in what looked to me like a sexual assault being carried out on film by a man on a child. And what was a miscarriage of power in every aspect. And I reconciled that both of my children were in danger from the very forces that were supposed to protect them, and there was nothing I could but use my voice to speak out about it. And I left this wretched country for a while and felt free.

The other day, a black woman was pulled over for failing to signal. Failing to signal. It is an easy offense. She is now dead. The dash cam is not an accurate reflection of what happened. The audio makes no sense. The story surrounding her death is as suspicious as any conspiracy theorist would want to dream up. She hung herself with a substandard trashbag from a length shorter than she was, with no one noticing until after she was dead, even though she was just in some local jail, and was very vocal about the state of police brutality in America today. It has all the earmarks of a modern day lynching. And we are supposed to buy the suicide story hook, line, and sinker. And now, I know that I must also fear for my own life because there is no age at which this monster will stop before it has sought its retribution on a culture that should not be in its land.

Black people have been in America since inception, and we are still treated like a foreign entity to be treated with antibodies. Like there is some way of dealing with us that will just make us go away or concede. Like we simply do not belong here because we are not wanted. We are still waiting to “overcome”. We are still waiting on equality. We are still waiting on all the promises of yesteryear while we are watching some horror story play out right before our very eyes. We are watching men, women, and children die at the hands of people paid to protect other citizens. Who do you think they are protecting them from? They are protecting them from us.

So I am going to let America win. And I am going to urge anyone who believes that this system that has been set upon us is patently unfair to let it “win” as well, and leave this fucking country like it is on fire. Fuck America and its sanctions against other countries for “human rights violations”. Who the fuck is America kidding with that shit? America wouldn’t know human rights for all if they came and spit in its face. It has been shirking human rights for its brown and yellow citizens for as long as it has been in existence.

Since I have no compunction to live afraid, I will not live here. If that was your aim, America, think again.

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