These days, I am sad, angry, mad, angry, speechless, sad and then even more sad again.
Congresswoman Maxine Waters speaks out for my people. For black and brown people, and then, is asked to issue an apology. She stands strong for minorities, marginalized folk. Folks who often go unheard and unrepresented, especially in the mist of, so many jaw-dropping words and so casually thrown around by our President and his administration. Congresswoman Waters boldly speaks up and is oftentimes asked to defend her words. To retract her words. Such position, the majority of her colleagues will never have to stand in.. This makes me angry.
Cake is not equal or available for all. Under the legal guise of religious freedom, the highest court of the land says there will be no cake for those same-sex couples who wish to celebrate their union amongst family and friends. No, you must go on over to another place, you see. I don’t have to serve you. Sound familiar? Go on away now. And, I’m not speaking of the matter of Virginia’s Red Hen Restaurant. I’m speaking of the deep south, “go away” type of antics. Prejudice due to the color of one’s skin color still exists even today. And now, certain discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and martial disposition is legal. This makes me sad.
The children in the videos. Children locked in cages as wolves or criminals or animals. Makes me want to scream a silent scream. No sound. It would hurt far too deep inside of me. My eyes see them and wonder what in the universe is this? How did we get here. Right back here. You do know, this is not new. My very own ancestors were torn from the arms of their mothers and fathers. Crying, weeping, wailing, writhing in pain and fear of the unknown. Fear of having to be alone in a new and different and cold place. I haven’t read all of the accounts of how these children have been treated. I have tried to protect my head and heart because I cannot physically stand to bare it all. The surrounding political shenanigans, all in the name of politics, makes me want to tear some shit up! Resort to violence! Yet, I know, violence is not the answer. I must find a civil way to act in advocacy for the least of these. Still, in all of this, I’m speechless.
Another SCOTUS seat will soon become vacant. Fear immediately settles inside of my head as a throbbing migraine. What will become of the cases before an even moreso, right- leaning, tipped right over court. The highest court of the land. As a woman, a black woman, what will become of my rights at the Doctor’s office, in the workforce and in other spaces? What will become of my right to say what happens to my own body? Will my uterus even belong to me? It sits way down deep on the inside of me and I’m proud to carry it with me daily in all its glory, but will I have to hand it over without just cause? To a group of angry, white men? Will women all across the land be silenced and punished for generations to come for strides made with the “Me Too” and “Time’s Up” movements? The thought of all of this makes me angry!
And finally, the land where I live a young boy fifteen years of age was buried on today. He was mistakenly killed. How is this possible? How is someone mistakenly killed? I’ve yet to watch any video from the day of his nonsensical death because I cannot bear it. My fingers simultaneously, speed up and grow weary as I write these words. My heart trembles inside of my chest, my uterus way down deep aches for the Mother that gave birth to this young boy. I now have a son and I cannot fathom her pain. He died alone. I hear that he died alone with no one yielding to his aid. How did we get here? I am deathly sad.
This is my country. Folks joke of leaving as we face uncertain times, scary, sad times. I am here to stay. I will figure it out. Together, we will figure things out in the mist of uncertainty and turmoil. But note, actions and movement on our feet will be required.
My America.
~ Writing While Black, Woman & American
For the introduction of Grateful Badass’ My America Series, click here.
