It’s been a while since I’ve written for my
blog. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve
written at all. But the non-indictment
of the Ohio cops who shot and killed 12-year-old Tamir Rice as well as the
peculiar circumstances surrounding the shooting death of Memphis teen Darius
Stewart, have pulled me out of my socio-political writing funk. There is no longer a need for me, or any other
academics, intellectuals, civil rights activists, preachers, or civic/community
leaders within the Black community, to recite all of the names and incidents
regarding Blue on Black crime; It is in
and off itself exhausting, horrific, and abominable to say the least. Damned the statistics and what opponents of the
Black Lives Matter movement are contending;
You know the old rhetorical combats they use: “What about Black on Black crime?” “Do what the police tell you to do and you
won’t get killed.” “Look at their
criminal record or past.” “The police
have a hard job. They’ve got families to
go home to.” “The media is trying to
start a race war to keep our minds off of Isis.” Figgety-fuck all of that.
Sure, we know that
proportionally whites out number Blacks and the incidents of Black Americans
being criminalized in the U.S. is more than twice the rate of non-colored
Americans, but non-Black Americans don’t exist in a neighborhood vacuum of
consistent police-patrol as if the Negro is more prone to violence, skulduggery, and societal mischief than their white counterparts. So, with that stated, the aforementioned is
the impetus and excuse for the haphazard killing of armed or unarmed Black
Americans be they male, female, young, old, threat or not. Again, I say figgety-fuck all of that. Why is it that the uniform of chocolate skin
is paraded across the local and national news in death too many times by law
enforcement with an excuse and a debate as to why a Black life matters or doesn’t
when that Black body is encountered by the very authoritative entity sworn to
protect and serve all of America in all of our American cities?
I grew up watching the
first, and one of the most successful, reality shows in American television
history, Cops, and never once did I witness a shooting of an alleged
suspect. At the worst, I was entertained
by a good wrestling match between cops and sometimes robbers—the “robbers”
being both Black and white, male and female, but never did anyone die even if
they were armed. But today, it’s always
a killing of people of my hue, people of my ethnic heritage---sometimes “warranted”,
but most times not. And the narrative is
always disgusting to digest because of both Black and non-Black people trying
their best attempt to remain objective and playing Devil’s advocate. We see white liberals trying to be fair,
white conservatives are not being balanced, and, in the midst of it all, you
have Black activists and social commentators and the cherry-picked PhD toting
scholar either acting and speaking as
apologists for our wayward brothers and sisters who had the audacity to not
cower or “obey” the commands of law enforcement, or as uber-angry ethnocentric
microphones of hate and segregation—all the while gaining public notoriety,
local or national fame, and getting a little pocket change for speaking
engagements and blog hits. I, for one,
am disgusted with it all. No longer will
I, and hopefully others, become Black intellectual Sambos consoling white
Americans and explaining to white America how the consistent and persistent
murders of Blacks by Blue cops must be addressed, condemned and eradicated.
The scary thing is that
the Black Lives Movement has done an excellent job of keeping the attention on
the abuse of authority by many rogue and racist policemen in this nation and
even pressuring District Attorneys across the country to either bring up
charges or convene grand juries as a means to acquiesce to the demands of the
broader (Black) American community and taxpayers, but it seems as if this is
often used as a band-aid meant to suffice the moans, groans, and cries of our
community. For some reason, and I may be
being petty, glib, or paranoid, but I feel like these grand juries seem to only be convened as a pacifier to the Black community, a call to "chill out", but a pacifier is meant only to soothe in the immediate, to suffice for the moment, but it's not even doing that because this racial, if not ethno-specific, pacifier got a rank meat taste to it. And if the pacifier tastes bad, the baby gonna spit it out and keep crying.
So, for me, and for the righteous and awoke "we", are gonna keep hollering until the baby get changed. And, please don't talk about the "race card" because Black Lives being massacred at the hands of law enforcement ain't a game, and even if it is or was we only are "playing the race card", yet America created the game and the card table. America, don't try and find the Negroes with a magical intellect or rhetorical gift to serve as a conduit between white racism and prejudice and the African-American community. Stop trotting out these civil rights ambulance chasing lawyers and activist looking for a crowd, a payday, and airtime. There is no magical Negro that can quiet the voices of our community. There is no intellectual Mammies and Sambos who can console your offspring on college campuses, universities, and at a concert-like panel discussion of the dialogue of Race in America. None of that works anymore. Your "thugs" and "good Negroes" are all alarmed, frustrated, and fed up with it all. And the card game is fixin' to get robbed. Kenny Rogers said it best, "You gotta know when to fold 'em, know when to hold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run." It's time to leave your winnings at the table and concede. These lost lives are an injustice, and like Dr. King said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." And now, the masses want justice--both any and everywhere.
-Gee Joyner
