Tell them, America.
Tell them, if that’s how it’s going to be. If it has to be us and them. Or you and them. Or everybody else and them. For God’s sake, for the sake of all that is Holy, tell them what they need to do to not be shot.
Then tell me, so if I run into someone who doesn’t know, then I can tell them. So that the monumental heart crushing fear every son’s mother of every color feels when watching this video or reading the news can reach toward a tiny crack of hopelight. Tell me so that when I read these articles, here safe across the ocean, when I read them and see the pictures and see my friends brothers husbands sons face instead, when I read them and am ashamed and confused and so far away and so so sorry, when I read them and see the videos and feel the despair
the despair, the rock bottom, that I thought only came in situations of true desperation and then realize that it IS true desperation and has been for centuries and it is only a matter of time before the same injustice, fear, hate is carried out on my children, on young men and women that I love, God forbid I live long enough to see it
my sons, blue eyed and blond haired. The children of my heart, eyes and hair green and brown and dark and light. Me. How long before they are the feared, powerless color? Before I am the feared undesired color, who makes a mistake with fatal consequences
because I didn’t know the rules?
But there are no rules.
There is only the terrifying cycle of fear. The cycle that not even love and faith in their small numbers seems to be able to break.