Maybe If...

I’m tired of hearing about us being executed every week/day. It’s an ongoing struggle to stomach the news of another shooting accompanied by footage and numerous eye-witness accounts attesting to the gross misconduct FATAL interactions police officers are having with unarmed civilians without any sort of accountability.

I’m tired of having to defend the reality that we are living in a society full of racism and prejudice that nobody wants to outrightly address in a constructive or compassionate way. I feel helpless, contributing to this discussion yet again with another article, with more words, but words aren’t protecting the young black men and women from being slain in the streets, in their homes, in their cars, words aren’t keeping police officers from abusing godlike tendencies to terrorize and intimidate, words aren’t enough to console the families who have lost loved ones way too soon and have to face the world with an emptiness no one else can imagine.

I think the hope is that these words will change the hearts and minds of a population of people who refuse to see beyond their close-minded notion of what this country stands for in their warped heads as opposed to the reality of its past, present, and future if they don’t consider the immense harm that’s been done and continues to be done to not only people of color but everyone living in this country. It’s baffling to me that people can live in such a bubble that another human dying, regardless of race, is not enough to alert them to a very serious issue plaguing this country.

Maybe if words are used just so, the people who condemn Colin Kaepernick’s protest will understand that it’s coming from a place of exhaustion not disrespect. Maybe if words are used just so, the people who scrutinize the video tapes of black people getting killed, looking for a fault of the civilian rather than face the fact it’s open season on a population of Americans. Maybe if words are used just so, those people who believe we no longer have a race problem will understand the problem never disappeared, but manifested itself in more subtle ways, buried within state policies and procedures, creeping in judiciary and political systems, manipulating basic human rights, and recently exploded onto the world’s main stage disguised as the Trump campaign. Maybe if words are used just so we can have a discussion about why prejudice is such a pervasive, yet utterly uncomfortable topic and actually try to reverse some of these stereotypes fueling the hatred. Maybe.

In the meantime, I hope people with friends who “don’t get it” will continue to use words to educate and persuade those people to take the time to “get it.”

Sigh. Love each other.

#Blacklivesmatter

There’s Something Wrong

The gun control issue is a hot button one, but I’m not touching that right now. Honestly, I’m not sure what would be feasible at this point, because taking people’s guns away will make people (with guns) angry, collecting illegal guns (from people who have these guns) would require massive amounts of manpower and I’m not sure law enforcement at this moment (ever?) can be trusted to be responsible for this task, not to mention the current volatile relationship a good heap of this nation has with the police. Finally, not allowing people to buy guns at all would probably cause riots, hell, all of those scenarios are likely to cause riots. I just don’t know. I don’t have an answer for gun control, but I hope there are great minds working to figure that out.

At this point I think it’s safe to assume we are all tired of the lack of actionable progress made to solve this crisis of mass murder. People are being shot in droves, it seems, every few days. I took a closer look, and it’s even more than that. Apparently, there have been more mass shootings this year than there are days. Let’s think about that, mull it over in your noggins for a minute. There have been more mass shootings than THE NUMBER OF DAYS THIS YEAR. I think it’s safe to call this epidemic a crisis of astronomical proportions, don’t you? Some of these mass shootings, in my opinion, share a glaring detail, mental illness. This is not to oversimplify the issue of gun violence, because it is an extraordinarily complex subject, but to dive into one of the many contributing elements. 

These people suffering from psychological problems are able to easily attain firearms, and not just any firearms, assault rifles, AKA 47s (same thing? I’m obviously a huge gun nut), automatic weapons, etc - heavy duty stuff nobody but the military should ever possess. Hell, handguns are scary enough. There just seem to be too many loopholes and gray areas for getting/registering a gun. Did you know if you owned a machine gun before 1986, it’s totes cool to keep it? Also, it’s not illegal to own one. THIS IS NOT A TEST. IT IS NOT ILLEGAL TO OWN A MACHINE GUN. There are also no Federal laws even requiring gun registration. Is someone selling guns in gum ball machines somewhere? Vending machines? They might as well be.

In most of the mass shootings that have been covered by major news networks, it’s abundantly clear the shooters are suffering from some major inner turmoil that has been festering for months if not years and all of this turmoil is funneled into destroying others. It’s downright scary that some of these shooters meticulously plan their attacks for weeks/month and some of them just “snap” and begin slaughtering helpless people, but in both scenarios the humanity inside of these shooters was diminished beneath a cloud of warped ideals, fanaticism, pain, hate, anger. It’s possible they could have gotten help if we as a nation were more forthright about mental health. Speaking with a professional may have quelled their murderous predilections. There aren’t very many facilities that treat mental health nowadays and more often than not people are completely unaware they even have problems. A stigma surrounds therapy in some households and that’s just unhelpful. There is absolutely nothing to excuse those unconscionable crimes, but maybe having a more open conversation about mental health will prevent more of these events from happening in the future. 

All of these shootings are, without a doubt, acts of domestic terrorism. According to the the FBI’s definition, these mass shootings fall under the definition of Domestic Terrorism. Look it up. These murders did “intimidate or coerce a civilian population.” It is unsurprising how hesitant the government is to call these acts domestic terrorism, because so many have occurred, it’s an intrinsic reflection of poor leadership and blatant apathy toward reform. Ugh, the GOP.

Anyway, my point is, it’s taboo to talk about mental health in this country and it’s too easy to illegally, heck, legally get these incredibly dangerous metal catastrophes. We’re not suppose to live like this. Those people who commit these unforgivable acts are products of our society whether we like it or not. It’s time to examine what’s going on and maybe prioritize our lives differently. It’s not enough (possible?) to limit the amount of guns in circulation or solely look at gun control from a legalese perspective, but to resolve the root of this horrifying recurrence, whatever that may be. Nobody should lose a child, a mother, a father, a best friend, a lover, a brother, a sister, an acquaintance- anyone to this violence. When will it end? How many more people need to nonsensically die?

Keep Fighting Ferguson

I don’t need to read the endless reports on what happened to young Michael Brown who is referred to as a man in all of these articles, but was really just a kid. He was just starting out his life, full of hope and possibilities when he was slain by a police officer for no reason. NO REASON. The deplorable actions of the police department to somehow muddy his name by releasing images of him wearing baggy clothes or posing a certain way is absolutely unconscionable. Police brutality is not new. It’s been happening for decades, sprinkled in local news like a flash in the pan, covered so thoughtlessly the nation was able to stay blissfully ignorant of the atrocities committed by the very people who are suppose to protect for so many years, but the blissful ignorance has ended and now it’s time to face reality.

I’m going to be really honest here and say I have never felt particularly safe around law enforcement. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always felt this odd, almost combative, ego that emanates off of a lot of people in uniform as they strut around with firearms on their hips and prejudice in their minds.

Over one steamy summer in Miami, when I was in high school, one of my friends threw a party for their birthday and invited a whole bunch of us over to hang out and eat cake. The neighborhood we were hanging out in was predominantly white and upper-middle class. The building had some pretentious-sounding name and we had to check-in with the door man before going up to the “party floor.” While we were hanging out, a few of our friends-who were kids of color-decided to walk to Walgreens for snacks or whatnot and told us they’d be back soon. Walgreens was only a few blocks away and the rest of us nonchalantly waved them goodbye. After forty minutes of not hearing from either of them, we were wondered what happened. Then my friend who’s birthday it was got a phone call. As she listened to the voice on the other end, her face fell and she became nervous and distraught. “What happened,” someone asked gently. “(So and so) are downstairs with the cops.” All of us looked at each other with pure bewilderment. The kids in questions were the most docile humans. They were the sweetest and funniest people I knew and it was mind-boggling to hear they were involved in anything that would require the attention of police. Well, obviously, they weren’t. On their way back from Walgreens they were accosted by the police for no reason other than being minorities in that mostly white neighborhood. We all went downstairs to find them handcuffed and silent with the crushing combination of hopelessness and fear in their eyes. 

The police puffed out their chests once we were all downstairs, us staring in confusion at what was transpiring. Why were there so many cops? What did they think was going on? Why were they asking them the stupidest questions?
“What were you doing walking around here so late?” One haughty cop asked.
They looked at each other, handcuffs tight around their innocent, young wrists, and one friend answered simply, “We just went to get some soda from Walgreens and were walking back to our friend’s house.” At this point, my friend who’s apartment parking lot was now a circus for uniformed clowns, was crying and pleading with the police to let our friends go because they didn’t do anything wrong (they really didn’t) and kept repeating that it was her birthday in hopes one of these lumps had a heart (and a conscience) to realize what a pitiful situation this was and completely uncalled for. Finally, after what seemed like an hour (it was probably more like 20 minutes) they let them go with a “warning” and we all left, heads down with the pressure of having witnessed the too-real events that made us feel the heavy weight of race inequality in America.

That wasn’t even that bad of an interaction. It pales in comparison to the senseless violence that has been plaguing the black community for as long as we’ve been in this country. Yet, even that mild brush with the popo is significant because it’s something that happens everyday. It’s significant because black men are subject to Stop & Frisk everyday. Because black men are not seen as people, but this scary fantasy created by a period in society that America refuses to acknowledge, which is pretty much directly responsible for the accepted violence and violation that has been going on for years. I’m like a broken record folks, yep, slavery. No. We are not fully passed it as a nation and it has spurred all of my personal favorite racially-charged events in history, such as the always wonderful entertainment called Black Face that openly mocked black people and let’s not forget those always fun Jim Crow Laws that basically gave white people the right to treat blacks like non-citizens. “Separate but equal?!” Who the hell thought that was okay?! Oh yeah, white people in power. These are things in history that are STILL HAPPENING TODAY. Remember those idiot kids in whateverville who wore black face for a photo? Segregation? Must I give ANYONE an example of that?! Ok, fine GENTRIFICATION.

When people say, “Chris, get over it.” I say, “Screw you.”

I won’t “get over it” until this country is safe for everyone. I won’t “get over it” until I can imagine a young black man walking carefree down the street in a hoodie listening to hip hop music with his pants hanging as low as he wants without fear of being shot or feared. I won’t “get over it” until there is actual justice when black men are gunned down or tortured because some white person feels threatened. Yes, that was a reference to Emmett Till who was FOURTEEN YEARS OLD when he was brutally murdered by some hokey townsfolk who, like someone else in the recent past, thought they would take the law into their own hands and administer a punishment that wasn’t only beyond inhumane, but truly, purely evil. I won’t “get over it” until there is a stop to systemic racism, to institutional racism, to plain hate that is accepted and coddled to a point where either most of the country is oblivious to it or they’re in denial. 

Ferguson is the eye-opener this country needed. It is an amazing culmination, years in the making, of outrage, weariness, persistence, and solidarity. What happened in Ferguson, what happened in Sanford, what happened in Los Angeles, what happened in Beavercreek,  what happened right here in NYC, what’s been happening all over this country is unfathomable and unacceptable. I know there has been some discussion about how people don’t want these protests to be called riots, but peaceful gatherings, and I think that’s wonderful.  Though, I can honestly understand how years of frustration with the way this country has been treating us can be a catalyst to unleash some passionate feelings that have been percolating beneath the surface. It’s not so much rioting as letting out a long, angry sigh. I hope everyone protesting in Ferguson and anyone who is standing up for humanity is staying safe out there. Be vigilant, be safe, and be smart.

We shall overcome.

Stop Shooting My Little Brother

This country has gone through a lot in regards to race relations in the past oh fifty years. It’s always jarring realizing the Civil Rights Movement was not that long ago and that progress albeit progress has not been anywhere near what MLK envisioned. Sure, little black boys can hold hands with little white girls, if the black boy is seemingly nonthreatening and wearing a suit.

All of our notions about race are just so systematically ingrained in legislation, in media, in bigoted ideas passed down from ignorant generation to the next it’s hard to see a future where none of that exists. 

The mistreatment of people of color is forever torched into American history with a flame that has extinguished hope, burned an unrelenting inferiority complex into millions and laid waste to humanity in a way that is almost irreparable. 

American Slavery is a big deal. It was more than humans being stripped of basic rights, it was more than families living in constant fear of being ripped apart, it was more than slaves being whipped and beaten by slave masters on a whim, it was more than the human spirit being tortured to the point of suicide, it was more than every violent action done to a person you can think of, it was more than dismantling the laws of human nature. Slavery ruined- no, poisoned the hearts and minds of this county and its ramifications continued to haunt our present in ways nobody wants to admit.

During the Civil Rights movement there seemed to be a special place of hatred and violence singularly preserved for black men. They were the main enemy in the minds of millions of Americans because of the mere color of their skin.Their presence was a threat and their lives an afterthought. 

Skin color was (in some minds still is whether it’s admitted or not) equated to intellect, reasoning, responsibility, the capacity for love and understanding. In slavery black people were not allowed to be perceived as human, holding all of these qualities, along with an astounding magnitude of hope, because then the reality that humans were being treated as cattle would settle in and demolish the whole notion of free, renewable resources (HUMANS). 

Again, I talk about slavery because for me that, later to be repackaged as institutional racism, can be the only source of all the unapologetic violence constantly berating the black community for so many years. We have come from an incomprehensible amount of pain and broken spirits to get to where we are today. I am apart of a community that is bigger than me, that holds a diverse array of minds. I am apart of a community that has been and continues to be subjected to atrocious mistreatment and injustice over and over again.

It scares me that black boys are continuously getting shot or beaten with no hope for justice. It scares me that the system that is suppose to protect the lives of all Americans has been so lax with defending the rights of some. It’s even more frustrating that the justice system ignores the harrowing implications of these injustices.

More importantly, it scares me that I have a little brother in Florida who just wants to hang out and be a teenager, but can’t be because being a black teenage boy in Florida can get you killed.

My little brother is tall for his age. He’s lanky and goofy and is one of the funniest people I know. I love talking to him because he has this airy demeanor of wisdom sometimes or this refreshing, wide-eyed infectious curiosity. He asks me questions about life and listens to my clumsy answers with a furrowed brow and at those moments I feel humbled that he actually sits there and listens. We talk about his dreams of becoming the next Dwayne Wade, but I always tell him he could be the next Neil Degrasse Tyson. I love my little brother. I love him so much it makes me want to cry when I hear about these shootings. And I do. I have. I’m crying as I write this. I honestly don’t know what I would do or how I would react if anything happened to him. It makes me crazy even thinking about it.

It makes me physically ill knowing families have lost pieces of themselves because of unfathomable hatred. It makes me angry that there is nothing I can do to quell the rage or sadness the families must feel.

This has got to stop.

Plain and simple.

There is no excuse for this blatant disregard for human life. I don’t feel safe in this country knowing guns are in the hands of maniacs and guilty people get away with murder. 

This is definitely a gun issue, but even more seriously it’s a human rights issue.

It’s time to start protesting. It’s time to start taking action. We cannot keep living like this.

Thoughts

I’m undecided if my sheer disinterest in the Olympics stems from a strong indifference towards sports in general or because the thought of having an event of that caliber means spending an insane amount of money that can be used for far more significant improvements on people’s everyday lives. According to The Guardian an approximate £11bn is being spent on the Olympics, the money coming from the government and an Olympics committee. INSANE. Although, I understand the allure of the Olympics. It’s an age-old tradition that we’ve somehow managed to maintain for all these years and it’s a celebration of the body, mind, and commitment of every single athlete. I get it. However, I will never really understand the logic behind spending so much money on an event when the world is in turmoil and the only thing to fix it is well money. Imagine if the money spent on the Olympics went to a third-world country for a system to give them running water- a luxury for a lot of the world and a dream for the rest. I don’t mean to be a hater, but I cannot deny the ludicrousness of the entire thing.

In other news, there was a shooting at a Sikh Temple in Wisconsin and the amount of hatred and violence in this country has been a problem for centuries and if we’re going to fix it we need to talk about it. However, the lack of open dialogue about shooting events has been baffling. We need to talk about some painfully honest issues, but leaders of this country are just not taking their roles seriously and actually leading this country in a discussion of guns, violence, and hate. It exists. We all know it does, even the most naive that want to believe racism was left in the ’60s and that 2012 brings an idealistic beacon of tolerance. In their heart of hearts they know. I hope, because the worst enemy of a situation like this is denial. 

And now for something truly exciting. MARS EXPLORATION.