Tag Archives: police brutality


I want to wrap my arms around you

I want to give comfort and hope

I typically use words to inspire and console

to uplift and show unity,

today my words are failing me

Behind tears and anger

I’m grasping for what to say.

But….I know there are no words to fix this:

“be safe” – that isn’t always in your control

“it will all be ok” no, no it won’t

“things will get better”  how? when?

“I understand” I couldn’t even begin to.

I mourn with you, I cry with you,

I scream in outrage with you,

I shake my head in disbelief

I fear for those I love with more melanin than I,

but I cannot truly understand,

I can never know what it is like to live in that beautiful skin

and have it used as an excuse for others to fear and kill you.

I can never know what it is like to not have the option to shut it off

to crawl into bed and not think about it

My words, my tears, my outrage are all worthless

until we, white people, learn to listen more than we speak

until we collectively figure out what to do to change this corrupt and oppressive system.



I Don’t Know What to Say Anymore…..

I will never know what it is like to be black in this country;

I never had to have the conversation with my children about how to act so the police don’t kill them;

I will never fear walking down the street in a “good neighborhood” because I might look out of place and be harassed;

I will never be asked  “who owns this car” when I am pulled over by the police, and then looked at with suspicion even after I show proof;

I will never be praised for “how articulate” I speak, as if it is a surprise;

I do not fear that my past mistakes, and I have many, will ever be used to justify my murder;

My melanin will never erase my humanity in the eyes of police, prosecutors, or a bigoted public.

I am confident my children will not be gunned down in broad daylight at a park for playing with a toy;

I do not deal with chronic, relentless stress that has a lasting impact on my health and mortality;

I don’t have to worry that if I am strong and assertive I will fall into the stereotypes of the women of my race;

I do not worry that my actions will feed into the beliefs others hold about my race;

I have never had to fight a school system that suspends, expels, or puts my kids into Special Ed at an alarmingly disproportionate rate;

I will never be accused of “playing the race card”, lying or exaggerating when I speak the truth about my life experiences;

When I go to a high end store I am not followed around – I will not be frisked, patted down, or put in handcuffs simply for shopping while black.


My eyes swell with tears, my heart aches, my mind races trying to make sense of it….

but, I will never KNOW, it will never be my day-to-day reality

So all I can continue to do is listen, be empathetic, demand systemic change, and validate experiences.

Little Black Boys Dying

I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick
Little boys are dying
Yet so much of humanity has no humanity
Their dark skin makes them grown,
It seems to make your skin crawl when we refer to them as son,
Child, teenager, even – young man,
Though some are not even close to manhood.
You prefer words like ghetto, thug, thief,
Say he felt like Hulk Hogan in your hands
Had the look of a demon in his eyes
You felt fear, fear for your life, this I do not doubt. Continue reading Little Black Boys Dying