Another Long Blog Post About Being Black
I try to stick to the script.
I want to stay true to the integrity of why I started this blog in the first place. I aim to encourage others in their journeys by sharing a little of my life.
But, here’s the thing: I see life through the eyes of a Black woman.
A few years ago, I wrote a long blog post about being Black. The support I received from readers reminded me that my purpose isn’t only to share the good times. Sometimes, it requires me to speak up during the darkest of days. I’ve learned that my beliefs and drive become clearer during the times when they’re challenged the most. So here we are.
This week, I’m writing another long blog about being Black. That’s because of SONYA MASSEY.
I won’t share any pictures or articles (prepare yourself if you google her name), but she was killed by a police officer while in her home after calling them to assist with a potential intruder. The body camera footage was released last week, and although I refuse to watch it, I started processing the situation. In my processing, I realized something.
For the last nine years, I have been intentional about using my turn signal while driving.
Very intentional.
I do a double-take before changing lanes and or before making a turn. I press my gas pedal after I hear the *click* *click* of my blinker, triggering me to proceed.
I wish I could stop overthinking, but I haven’t been able to yet.
What do my driving habits have to do with Sonya Massey, you might ask? Well, before Sonya, there was Sandra.
I overthink while turning because a police officer stopped Sandra Bland for allegedly not using her turn signal in 2015. Days later, she was dead. I always wondered if she would still be with us if she hadn’t gotten pulled over and put in jail that day.
Breonna Taylor was in her bedroom asleep.
Botham Jean was sitting in his living room, enjoying some ice cream.
Ta’Kiya Young was leaving Kroger.
These, and many others, deserved better. Some of the most gruesome circumstances overshadow their legacies.
According to a 2020 article by The Washington Post, at least 250 women have been fatally shot by police since 2015 (Iati, et al., 2020). NBC news also reported that Black people are killed by police more than any other group (Bunn, 2022). To be clear, I’m not saying all law enforcement is bad. I’m just processing out loud.
I’m Black, and I’m a woman. The reality of this duality doesn’t bother me a bit. In fact, I embrace it. But there’s always a reminder that, outside of “breeding” enslaved Africans, this country hasn’t embraced people who look like me.
But that won’t stop me.
I get tired of overthinking while using my turn signal, but not nearly as tired as seeing another #SayHerName hashtag. But I will say her name: SONYA MASSEY.
If I didn’t have faith, the happenings of this world would have made me lose hope a long time ago. But I press on. In grief, in times of reformation and advocacy, in times of rest — I press on.
Whether you’re on the front lines of a march, Capitol Hill, a Zoom call, or a church pew (and I’ve been on them all), I encourage you to find your place and press on.
I wrote this in 2020 and I’ll write it again: You don’t have to watch every video. MURDER IS TRAUMATIC. Feel free to take time to process before you post. Awareness, allyship, and action occur off social media, too.
Please don’t let this constant media loop destroy you in this process. Guard your heart. We need all of you in this Revolution.
