Do all lives really matter? Of course they do! That’s a stupid question. The question should be, do some lives matter more than others? No one wants to answer this question. It’s like saying if both of your parents are in a sinking boat, you can only save one, which one do you choose? WTF? Often people will refuse to answer this question because you don’t want to offend anyone but if indeed this happened, you would have to choose one or let them both drown.
It’s the same thing today with Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, All Lives Matter, My Life Matters and so does yours. We all know this. So, why must we keep having this stupid debate. What you are passionate about may not be what I’m passionate about. I don’t care about that lion that got killed by the dentist in Africa that had America in an uproar but I do care about the homeless that people ignore everyday. They are both very important issues but one issue is more pressing than the other.
We have a new civil rights era among us and all we can argue about is lingo? People are dying at an alarming rate at the hands of the police and America is upset about a phrase? Are you serious? More specifically, minorities are dying at an alarming rate by the hands of the people who took an oath to protect and serve. Minorities are those that are not caucasian (white) men. If you’re not a white man you are a minority, welcome to the club.
I have always been a person who respects another for the content of their character and not the color of their skin nor the size of their bank account. I grew up in a small town in South Carolina where there were only five black children in the whole fifth grade, If I remember correctly.
Growing up in the south my family prepared us for racism. Don’t go anywhere at night alone. If someone white calls you a nigger don’t react because they’re trying to get you to act like a nigger. Lastly, don’t ever forget that you’re black and they’re white. Being who I am the last one was stupid to me, especially as a child. As I got older, I realized that all of these things were true.
I continued to make friends with many different people over the years but I never forgot that I was black because the truth is America will never let me forget. I’m reminded of my blackness every time someone comes to my place of business, who has never seen me, asks for me and when I come around the corner the look of shock on their face because they were expecting a white woman. I knew there was a reason my mama didn’t give me a “black” name, she wanted me to shock the world.
I’m reminded when I go into a store and the salesperson asks the white woman standing next to me if she needs anything but won’t even look at me. I’m reminded I’m black when I get pulled over and the office calls me “girl” and there are three other cop cars there. I’m reminded that I’m black every time I look in the mirror and I see my beautiful chocolate skin, full lips, and my naturally big butt. The world will not make me feel like less of human being because you don’t like me or my people. My people’s blood, sweat, and tears are in this land. I am black and I am damn proud.
The next time you hear me scream BLACK LIVES MATTER don’t interrupt me to have a discussion about all lives matter. I don’t want to hear that. I say BLACK LIVES MATTER because I’m black, I’m proud, and MY LIFE MATTERS just as much as yours!