I’ve always been an activist, to an extent. It’s just something in my makeup that feels compelled to speak truth to power and right the wrongs, from my perspective. I’ve marched, made signs, stood toe-to-toe with the powerful and taught the kids to care about activism.
George’s murder wasn’t the first which stirred my spirit but it stood out more than the countless others….I heard his actual cry for his “Momma!...”. The distress in his voice, the raw child-like call gripped my heart and wouldn’t turn it loose. However, as I geared up to march along-side my activist brothers & sisters, it was different tone this time. Instead of “No Justice, No Peace!” chants, the calls to “F**k” the police…!” and defund the police were louder and meaner than ever before. How can I march beside people who, in many circumstances, sought ill-will to my precious son while attempting to gain street justice for the other? But how could I not if my spirit says fight for the culture but my heart says fight for my child?
Last week brought yet more news feeds regarding probable injustices in Black & Brown communities by people with badges. I’ve decided to lay down my marching gear and find a way to strike the balance between being a MOM(S) of BOTH .