(In response to the September 2017 acquittal of Jason Stockley, whom murdered A. Lamar Smith in 2011.)
From the desk of the author:
I am a life long St. Louis resident. I was born in St. Mary’s Hospital, daughter of college educated black parents. I started school on Gano at Bryan Hill Elementary. I am a graduate of Jennings Senior High. I know the soothing nature of Vess soda, Red Hot Riplets and trype sandwiches.
Good or ill, it’s home in the Toni Morrison sense of the word.
Police in St. Louis have been racist, crooked and oppressive. Only the cameras are new, the treatment isn’t. This verdict is only one of many slight and assaults to my personhood–like every other person of color in this city.
Ida B. Wells said, those that do the murders write the reports. This is none less true now than it was then.
As a woman of color, a black woman, a mother of black children, black godchildren, a daughter, a sister and a friend all of me is horrified to none of the state of my city–yet not surprised by it.
What I ask, what I pray, is that you remain vigilant. Be aware that these things happen to people whom are non-white, and we are tired. My soul is weary. Yet, I’m reminded of what my foremothers, grandmothers and even my own mother endured so that my life would be better.
I add voice, my space, my life to this resistance–to the betterment of my people, so that better will indeed come.
Police brutality is real thing.
Blue lives do not exist. BLUE LIVES DON’T EXIST.
Black lives matter.
BLACK LIVES MATTER.
RE. Damn. SIST.
A hero of mine said this in the St. Louis American:
“Clergy, if you’re not preaching resistance in this city, you’re not preaching.”
As a woman of faith, my anchor is not in man. If it were, I couldn’t stand this onslaught. The same tables Jesus Christ flipped, I flip and write on.
Oppression, racism, hatred, violence, weaponized response to blackness, inequality will continued to be called out by me and those that resist and observe.
They will not take my voice, or my pen.