Heavy.

  We sat silently as the other two patrons of the theater exited.  The credits rolled on and the only word that came to my mind was "shit".  None of us were strangers to the struggle that we had just seen played out before us.  Police brutality, racism, big city life, all of these things have been with us since before we could remember, yet to see it on screen, to see it done with integrity, was gripping.  Oscar Grant III's story has become an everyday occurrence. 
  Eugene Jackson died a week ago today, for absolutely nothing.  Not armed, no longer at the scene of a crime with which he had no part in, Eugene was shot for "looking suspicious".  All month, Black men and boys have been gunned down and hunted for being outside in their own neighborhoods, for passing by someone's front yard or listening to music with their friends.  All month and nothing is happening.  There's no justice for them or their families.  My heart goes out to those who have seen a loved one lost at the hands of justice.  My eyes well up just thinking about what my father,brothers, nephews, cousins and uncles have had to endure just to make it through another day.  
  I wonder about justice and who it stands to serve?  Even the most seemingly compliant person can still get the snot beat out of them in the name of justice.  Why is an officer committing murder tried differently than their civilian counterpart?  Why is one person's life held higher than another?  These are the questions that come to my mind when a man is a victim of cold blooded murder and the guy who kills him goes free.  These things happen so frequently, I wonder if it's meant to desensitize the population.  Make it become normal so that when the next person dies whether it be a stranger or a family member, we don't even have the energy to rally.  We can't wait for justice to be served on a silver platter.  We can't hold our tongues and not speak about the fact that the color of a person's skin plays a significant role in how they are treated by authority.
 Give birth to a Black baby boy and spend the rest of your life fearing for the day he doesn't come home to you.  Don Lemon has five rules that will keep you alive little boy.  Just pull up your pants and the cloak of privilege will be upon you.  Jay-Z doesn't see race, so we're all in the clear now.  Tim Allen can't wrap his European mind around why it's inappropriate for him to use the word nigga.  Reality is teaching boys of color that their lives aren't worth a damn and to live with their hands behind their heads and to equate Blackness with wrongdoing.  Black is beautiful and there is nothing wrong with that.