Thoughts on the time…

Still processing, but it’s time to share.

Seeking justice for Ahmaud and Sean and so many others,* too many others. But, truly can justice be had when it’s been so long? Twenty four hours… three months… two years… eight years… fifty years… 450+ years. But with little true change, can there be justice? Why should voices still have to reach the decibels, which now ring from block to block, city to city, state to state, app to app to be heard? to finally move those who are called, those who are voted into office to serve – to action, when a life… yes a black life, but again, a life has been taken? Blood calls out from the blacktop, concrete, the dirt where it was spilled, seeking justice. But, no answer is found.

Ask, “Why?” The answer returns like the coldest, sickest, most violent shaking of reality, a truth which is the measure of where we’ve come from but, also from where we have not moved at all. Created equal by our Creator, but treated as such? The illusion is perpetuated by hope, yet shrouded in ‘as long as you stay in your lane, your neighborhood, your place, or you’ll suffer the same fate’. It’s like walking into a yard with “beware of dog signs”. But, the owner is telling you, “It’s safe.” Then, all of a sudden, the dog is snarling and barking at you. You know the reason. But, the owner is still trying to encourage confidence in you as you walk toward the porch. Then, out of nowhere, it lunges at you and is no longer constrained by its leash. After all, you are in its territory. You turn to run while the owner calls the dog to return and calls it a very fine dog. But, by now the dog is after you and quickly catches up with you, and takes hold of your shoe. You try to shake it loose and defend yourself, but it’s too late. You’re in a death struggle with this dog and it is winning. Then, you are startled, awakened by the commotion, and your heart is racing. You discover you’ve been dreaming – nightmaring to be more accurate.

Question: Does this seem that different from our reality? Question: Did the dog escape or was it set loose? Why did the owner not step in with more force? Was this justifiable because there were signs? The owner welcomed you, welcoming telling you to ignore the signs, encouraged and offered good faith, testimony about their dog. Somehow this dream returns and the owner is defending their dog and their own actions. The dog catchers are looking at you as though you did something wrong by just, being. Shouldn’t my life matter? Shouldn’t my life matter more? or at least as much as this dog…a dog…?

I’m awake now. But this question rings through my mind. Where is justice? Why should voices still have to reach the decibels which now ring from block to block, city to city, state to state, app to app to be heard? My life matters! A Black Life Matters!

*Started back on May 8.