Minneapolis: "It Hurts to be Black"

Minneapolis: "It Hurts to be Black"
Alanna Galloway speaks to a crowd in front of a police precinct Nov. 21, 2015, in Minneapolis. Protesters vowed to maintain the vigil over the death of a black man who was shot by police, saying they won't move until video recordings of the encounter are released and authorities change how they interact with communities they serve. (Kyndell Harkness / Star Tribune)

By A Comeaux

I’m  in Minneapolis.

My head is pounding, my body is aching and it hurts to breathe.

Light pains my eyes and my ears are ringing like a faint cry in the distance. My job calls it the flu.

Today, I know it just hurts being black.

Last night while I kissed on my 9-year-old brown baby boy in his sleep, praying for his safety, praying he’s brave in the face of adversity and asking for wisdom to guide him through these tumultuous times… five activists were shot by white supremacists during a peaceful protest for justice.

Justice? What color is justice? What color does justice serve?

When the shooting of an unarmed black man by Minneapolis Police resulted in his death, the city united. Nine days into #4PrecinctShutDown, after videos of white supremacists surfaced showing guns, covered faces, aiming violence to protesters, I ask, what color is justice?

When the police were called it took 15 minutes for EMT to respond. Some cops asked protesters, ‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’

What color is justice, again?

How many mothers buried babies they’d not long ago given birth to? How many graduation seats draped in robes that would’ve been filled by our future leaders? Who were you at 12? Who were you at 17? Who were you at 24? These are the ages of a few of the countless lives snatched by officers of the law.

In our country. In our state. In our backyard, what justice has served the black, the poor, the disenfranchised for an America built on the backs of a stolen people from a rich land?

Please tell me, what color is justice and what color does it serve?

I am a mother of a precocious, aware and empathetic black male child. I cry in showers that he thinks are way too long because this world is corrupt in ways I can’t kiss away.

I’m sick today but I think it just hurts being black and I know that’s an ailment with no cure.

And by cure I mean justice. Because when we’re gunned down by police, who do we call ON the police?

I’m A Comeaux and I stand with my fellow Black comrades for whatever glimpse of justice we dare fight for. #BlackLivesMatter #Justice4Jamar #PutYourHashtagHere

Follow A Comeaux on Twitter @KcoSpoke

Follow A Comeaux on Twitter @KcoSpoke

A Comeaux is the writer, speaker and actor who poetically paints pictures of life and love with a paradoxical perspective. Follow her on Twitter @KCOSpoke

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