All tagged race war

Dear White People: Thoughts on Ferguson

Dear White People: Thoughts on Ferguson

SweetTee
Hashtag Black

[It's been a long time since  I've penned  a blog post. I've been bogged down with school and work and generally too busy to get on here. But some things are so important you have to make time to talk about them. In my gender and women's studies class this week, after the decision was made by the Grand Jury to not indict Darren Wilson for the murder of Mike Brown, my professor asked us how we felt. What I intended to be a short response turned into a long outpouring of grief and frustration. Answering his questions helped me to gather my thoughts on the situation. Here they are.]

 

While I was disappointed and hurt by the decision, I was not surprised. That was the part that hurt me the most. I wanted so badly to be surprised. But I knew better than to raise my expectations. The US "justice" system had failed so many times before, I knew better than get my hopes up. Still I had a hard time breathing, just as I had when the Zimmerman verdict was read. My heart still sunk and tears still sprang to my eyes.

We're Mad Now: Why Social Media Activism Matters

We're Mad Now: Why Social Media Activism Matters

SweetTee
Hashtag Black

I was standing at the bathroom sink with my Lysol spray bottle in my hand when I first found out about the Zimmerman verdict. If I’d been cleaning instead of procrastinating on my Twitter timeline, I might have delayed the sick, sinking feeling I experienced when I learned that Zimmerman was found not guilty on all charges.  I might have delayed the way my hands shook as I read the tweets of outrage and disbelief. I might have delayed the chill that overtook my body as I saw Zimmerman smile when his attorneys congratulated him. But even if I’d stayed in the bathroom and scrubbed my sink until my hands turned raw, there was no way I could have avoided the news – George Zimmerman, the man who killed a young black kid, not much older than my little brother, was walking free. My heart bled (and still does) for the family of Trayvon Martin.

My immediate reaction was to call my mother, and she listened very quietly as I ranted and raved. Then I took to Twitter to rant and rave some more. I could barely contain my hurt and my anger, and the sympathetic tweets of my counterparts, white, black and otherwise were like fuel to a fire that burned in the pit of my soul. Another black life, gone down the drain, and not a soul was going to suffer for it. How could we not be mad? How could we not be hurt?