I’m not sure what to say. To be honest I haven’t really said anything. Day after day, month after month I sit in my thoughts. Another life gone, another family in grief, another hashtag, another protest, another trial, another night in front of the TV waiting for a conviction, another disappointment, another response from the family, and repeating these step every month. I don’t know how many times we can continue to circle around this drain. Some days, I wish the drain would just swallow us whole.
It’s never truly been about one person; all of our lives one person has had to represent our entire race. Whether in class, at work, in sports or on the street - we’ve always had to ‘prove our worth’. So when one of us dies we all die a little inside. It doesn’t matter if I knew them, if it was a man: he could have been my father, cousin, brother, uncle, best friend. A woman: she was my sister, friend, aunt, mother, me.
I’m not sure where we start. I’m not sure where we go from here, but we must stand together. We must look for solutions. We have to demand action from others and ourselves. We have to band together and look at this broken system, and figure out how to change this heart wrenching narrative that keeps us awake at night.
Three women going through life.