Social Justice

I had an entirely different post I was going to write 2 weeks ago, then I just stopped. Then, I began to write another post last week and I just stopped. I could not conjure words as I watched another Black man murdered at the hands of the police. I am so tired of asking why? I am exasperated with having to explain that this is not only more evidence of a racist society running on the pillars of white supremacy, but it is a reality most of us (Black people) have no hope of ever escaping. I avoided news coverage of the Derek Chauvin trial, because even accidentally hearing any defense from the other side would have been enough to send me into a blind rage of either fury or mental breakdown.

I am in pain for the families of our fallen, and for Black people everywhere. I know, it feels like we are stuck, and there’s no point in fighting for change right? I’m tired too. I even feel guilty for feeling tired because I was privileged to not have been born early enough to feel the sting of master’s whip, the bite of a blood hound, nor the burn of the noose around my neck as gravity went to work. I did not have to feel the bone crushing pressure of the fire hoses as I stood on the street corner singing aloud a negro spiritual, nor be told I could not use that bathroom, water fountain, or sit in that front seat on the bus. But somehow still, I am exhausted.

I have had no real focus on work, projects, and have had to force myself to eat something before 9 pm every day. I’ve pushed through though, somehow. I’ve gotten minimal tasks accomplished, and have made most of my meetings, so I am functioning, but this feeling of hopelessness and fatigue seems to be unwavering. I am functionally hopeless.

Hopelessness has become our warm blanket in the dead of this four hundred- and one-year winter. It’s a natural Black reflex many of us try to correct so that we do not show such a defect so openly, after all, they say the deadliest animals strike when they sense fear in their prey. So we ask why, and we die. We turn our back and run away, and we die. We mind our own business, and we die. We take a walk, and we die. We play in the park, and we die. We dance, and we die. We go for a run, and we die. We go to sleep, and we die. We beg for mercy in the street, call out for our mothers, and gasp for air unable to breathe, and we die. We march in protest over and over, calling for the world’s attention to the agonizing normal we’ve always known, and forever still, we die.

Is that Justice Knocking on Our Door?

Then today all of a sudden became historic. April 20, 2021 will be written in archives everywhere as the day Black people felt the bittersweet taste of a delicacy so foreign to us, we don’t know what the hell to do – JUSTICE!

Derek Chauvin, the Minneapolis police officer who substituted his noose with his knee, publicly lynching George Floyd in the street nearly one year ago, has been found guilty on all murder charges – JUSTICE!!

The torture of those nail-biting moments before the verdict was read, as Black people everywhere waited for our impending doom was agony. They would never fully convict a white cop for the murder of a Black civilian, we know this, this is just how it is. Let’s just get this over with! And as if evoking the spirits of our Black ancestors, magic danced through the courtroom and spilled out into the streets with the incantation “Guilty” – times three. – JUSTICE!!!

The sight of Chauvin being taken away in handcuffs will be the poster board for Black Justice everywhere. Pure poetry in motion. I only wish the officer cuffing him would have been Black – JUSTICE!!!!

It Ain’t Over Till it’s Over

While possibly millions of people everywhere celebrate such a victory, it is important to echo what many, including the family of George Floyd have been saying since the verdict was read, and that is that the fight is not over. It is frustrating, to say the least, that we have to cut our celebration short because we cannot accurately say that things have changed, but it is the only reality we know. We have to remember that this is one moment in a what could be an eternal battle for true justice. This moment should be the motivation we need to keep pushing, keep marching, and stay in the faces of our lawmakers. We say “enough is enough,” but that means nothing if we go back to sitting in silence, waiting for the system to change it’s mind about us.

As badly as I hope this moment sends the message to police everywhere that they are not immune to being brought to justice, there is still much work to be done. Those of us working in DEAI (Diversity, Equity, Accessibility, Inclusion) efforts within our institutions and beyond, we must not stop. For those of us in the streets protesting, and continuing to fight for our right to vote, we must not stop. This time, we got to see a measure of justice, but it is not guaranteed every time. Not yet.

So cheers! Black people near and far, this 420 we truly have a reason to celebrate, and a small but powerful reason to maintain our resilience. The message remains the same – No Justice, No Peace. Madam Vice President Kamala Harris said today, ” A measure of justice, is not the same as equal justice.” We got a win today but remember, our fight is not over.