Blood Signs Our Name


I have never been ashamed to be black. I was never taught to fear people that looked like me or to hate my mirrored complexion. In times such as these, it is easier to shy from it to be able to blend in and make no waves.

I’m glad that I don’t live in that time and am not that person.

I am reminded of a story Buck O’Neil told about Jackie Robinson. There was a gas station the Kansas City Monarchs stopped at where Jack wanted to use the restroom while the team filled up. The white man that owned the gas station wouldn’t let Jack use restroom, so Jack told him to take the fuel pump out of the team bus’s tank.

The conclusion? Jack used restroom, and the team got gas. Hold on. I know the wheels are spinning, so let me help you.

It’s simple economics:  supply and demand.

And now, black blood is a commodity to be sold and marketed. Supply the murder, demand justice, supply a settlement.

My people are not chattel. We are not property. The lives of my people aren’t secret commerce nor our bodies red meat to appease and assuage white supremacy’s jackals whom wish to will us all away, paying blued foot soldiers to do their bidding.

The blood of husbands, wives, sons and daughters, and extended family is not a traded commodity. Law enforcement does not get God status for a job they applied for to harangue POC whose skin color was never a job choice nor a weapon.


They will hear us.

They will stop killing us.

We understand the only way this unjust system will recognize our humanity, our rightful citizenry, and our full personhood is the removal of black dollars and complete  resistance to white supremacy.

It is understood now that economic disparity is institutional and systematically stacked towards the financial immobility of POC. However, with those monies redistributed in our communities, the repairs within our own social/financial infrastructure can begin.

There is not enough money to buy or replace life or its delegated, selected promises that life will now leave undone. There is no settlement that can be given to settle a murder at the hand of those that protect and serve.

We haven’t forgotten.

We indeed, like Sunni Patterson, said, “We know this place.” We know it like the end of the horror movies we saw where the black kid doesn’t make it.

This time…we will.

“I believe that we will win.”

-Rep. Bruce Franks, Jr.

MO-(D), House Of Representatives

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