George Floyd

George Floyd :: Minneapolis :: May 25

From the Investigative Update on Critical Incident on the Minneapolis Police website.

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Two officers arrived and located the suspect, a male believed to be in his 40s, in his car.  He was ordered to step from his car.  After he got out, he physically resisted officers.  Officers were able to get the suspect into handcuffs and noted he appeared to be suffering medical distress.  Officers called for an ambulance.  He was transported to Hennepin County Medical Center by ambulance where he died a short time later.

At no time were weapons of any type used by anyone involved in this incident.
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That entry makes George Floyd’s death sound like a heart attack.

A knee with the weight of a grown man behind it will cause medical distress. George Floyd was handcuffed and pinned to the ground by Derek Chauvin who kneeled on his neck for seven minutes.

No weapons were used, only a well placed knee across the neck ended the life of another Black Person in America. Three murders in four months and these are the ones that have gone viral and we have been made aware of through social media and news outlets. School shootings are down because there are no children in school, but Black murder continues because Black people die by living in America.

Breonna Taylor :: Louisville :: March 13
Ahmaud Arbrey :: Brunswick :: February 23

I cannot believe I am writing about another Black death by police. Yet, I can because this is America and the lives of Black men people are not valued the same as the lives of other people in this country.

Scientists are searching for a vaccine for COVID, but what is the vaccine for intrinsic racism and murder of Black lives? Will we ever live in a world that truly values life?

She’s not a pretty thing

She’s not a pretty thing.

There is no clean packaging or simplicity.

We share a bath and her voice becomes loud in the still, wet darkness.

I do not try to drown her with positive affirmations, but just sit and listen, I become terrified.

Her rage grows, I try to shrink away, but choose to keep the space.

Sobs overtake and she shakes my core, pounds the water and I hear my screams through tears that haven’t fallen in too many months.

It’s too much. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be the sole bread winner and parent. I can’t keep up with everything. I can’t just let things go. I can’t keep keeping the peace and being the balance. I can’t do it.

My mind won’t stop, I feel like I can’t do it. I can’t do life, not this way, but I have to do it. I have to keep moving forward, my daughter needs me. I can’t lose my mind, but the noise won’t stop. I grab pen & paper and muddle out. “You can do it. Let the anger forge a path. You don’t have to keep doing it the same way. You don’t have to keep hurting. Change your story.”

I sit with my anger and she finally knows it’s safe to surface and fill the space we share.

I sit with my anger and she is allowed to express.

Instead of imagining what I could do but not acting on my ideations, because “I’m not that kind of person,” I free her. Anger grabs for whatever is within reach- soon the room is smashed. Shaving cream and shampoo and soap are thrown against walls, the trash can is knocked over, and, as if watching myself, I get out of the bath. I see photos hanging on hallway walls. Faces with false smiles look back at me- pain relived everyday in hopes of creating balance.

Pictures are burned. My story begins a new chapter.