We watched One Night In Miami last night and it had me tearing up. Just knowing that Malcom X knew that the end was near and kept trying as hard as he could to have his words, his friends words, speak for the racial tension and for what was happening every day.
Speaking about the movie my boyfriend admitted that he doesn’t feel safe taking a walk in the early morning. It gauged my heart out but I’m just always hyper aware of the tension that is around and racism he’s dealt with most of his life. We were talking and all we need is someone calling in a black man walking around the neighborhood, the wrong cop coming out, and him being killed.
This is real.
Every day this is real.
My love is a black man who I’ve seen, more than once, twice, just countless times that he is looked at more than twice. Just walking around. He always engages people in saying “Hello” first when we’re walking together. To let them know he sees them, is what he explains is why he does this when we’re out. I tend to keep my eyes down and not engage anyone when we’re out.
He calls me gregarious and I call him the same.
We have to explain to kids that racism is real, and rampant, and my friends with their children have to specify to their little boys “show your hands even if you didn’t do anything wrong. Show you’re smaller.”
What road is the wrong one?
What street is watching you too closely?
Who called you as a threat when you weren’t even one for a second?
What are we doing to make this well-known? All I do is explain it, say it, make it into poetry, and have full discussions about race and admit my white privilege I own and have.
Sarah Bellum Mental 