Rage is in Order

I understand the rage of poor uneducated Black People.  

I understand the rage of middle class educated Black People. 

I understand the rage of wealthy Black People.

I understand the rage because I feel it too. 

When I first heard about George Floyd‘s murder it crushed me beyond articulation. 

I remember where I was.

I remember where I was when I watched Mr. George Floyd’s murder at the hands of a sadistic, hands in pocket, gleeful, derek chauvin. 

I remember. 

I was doing laundry in the little “laundry house” in the back of my apartment building. I was not prepared for what I saw. 

But make no mistake, I was not prepared for Tamir Rice’s murder. Atatiana Jefferson’s murder. Eric Garner’s murder. Trayvon Martin’s Murder. 

And Sandra Bland’s murder literally brought me to my knees; her murder ushered me into Activism. I thought then, I cannot take much more. 

Every murder since Sandra Bland, I’ve felt, I can’t take much more. 

I’ve heard my Mama wearily say, I can’t take much more. 

We are weary. 

Black Americans are weary. 

The non/Black world, my friends, my neighbors, and strangers expect Us to...

Take it. Take it. Smile. Forgive. Stay in your place. Be quiet. Tap dance for Us. “And keep creating all Your genius art so that we can appropriate your Culture and change history so that we are the victors; we’ll take all the credit; sources will never be cited!” 

“And you niggers are uneducated, simple, dangerous, scary niggers.”

Take it. Take it. Take it. 

Take it. Take it. Take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

Take.

It. 

“And stay in your place, niggers.”

Niggers. 

After I watched it I screamed. A guttural scream. It came from somewhere...I don’t know from where...

I was so angry. I was ENRAGED.

I slammed the laundromat door three times until it broke. Fell right off its hinges.

I have to watch as my Elders, Family, Loved Ones, Godchildren and Friends, all my Black Sisters and Brothers pensively waiting to see if we will finally have, just a morsel of

JUSTICE. 

I witness their grief and worry and rage, as they are a witness to mine.

So yes I understand the rage of Black people and them destroying their neighborhoods. They don’t feel as though they are destroying something that belongs to Them.

Purposely lackluster funded schools. Over policed communities. Depression and PTSD because racism, stress, poverty... 

We are all feared and treated as sub-Humxn.

Black People, since 1619 until 2021, are made to feel as though nothing belongs to Them. To Us. 

Even as immigrants are able to get loans to open up their businesses in predominantly Black communities, Black Americans whose last names are Their Ancestor’s slave master’s last names; whose  Ancestors and Mama’s and Daddy’s and Sisters and Brothers, cannot get loans. 

It is not Our neighborhoods. 

I understand the rage.

We are the only race of people that every other race expects not to react to our oppression, the violence against our Men and Womxn  and Children.

They want Us to forgive without processing anything.

They don’t want us to be angry.

They don’t want us to be sad.

They don’t want us to feel or react to ANYTHING about the hate and violence waged against Us since the white world discovered that Black Gods walked this Earth. 

They are afraid of Us [And Womxn.].

And we haven’t even done anything.

Yet.