Parole without Exclusions
“Are you guys having a good time? Or is this weird?” Both, Dave. Both.
But we needed this, chairs outlined in red, Social Distanced. We needed this, you hitting the stage.
You never put your hands in your pockets, Dave. Only to reach for a lighter.
You’re a warrior.
8 Minutes & 46 Seconds!
The story of 3 brilliant black women who wrote a love letter to black people and reshaped the narrative.
How they brought people at the margins together to build their power.
Exposing how the police are there to help unjust systems thrive.
Recognizing the power of Social Media but always remembering we have to show up…physically.
Stepping away from the false narrative of respectability politics, into the gloriousness of our wretchedness.
Thanks you Alicia Garza. Thank you Opal Tometi. Thank you Patrisse Cullors.
#BlackLivesMatter
The story of his assassination is harrowing in the shadow of the George Floyd Uprising.
In the predawn hours, a heavily armed Chicago Police Team stormed Hampton’s apartment. The police had obtained a warrant ostensibly in search of illegal weapons, which they used as a pretext for killing Hampton.
They fired more than 90 rounds. He was 21 years old.
I was born in a pandemic, shaped in the waters of strife, separated from my mother’s life-yielding placenta, thrust into a world infected by hate.
I am black and male. Born in the USA. I wear the mask. I cannot leave home without it. This is a matter of survival.
I have learned to wear the mask. Not the one that fits over my nose and mouth snugly and held at my ears. The mask that pretends that I am not who I am. The mask that makes my male blackness less threatening, more palatable.
That projects a veiled image of me.