"When God tells you to be brave, He will make it work. It won't be perfect. It won't be easy. But it will be your story." -- Annie Downs

“Night flight to San Francisco; chase the moon across America. God, it’s been years since I was on a plane. When we hit 35,000 feet we’ll have reached the tropopause, the great belt of calm air, as close as I’ll ever get to the ozone. I dreamed we were there. The plane leapt the tropopause, the safe air, and attained the outer rim, the ozone, which was ragged and torn, patches of it threadbare as old cheesecloth, and that was frightening. But I saw something that only I could see because of my astonishing ability to see such things: Souls were rising, from the earth far below, souls of the dead, of people who had perished, from famine, from war, from the plague, and they floated up, like skydivers in reverse, limbs all akimbo, wheeling and spinning. And the souls of these departed joined hands, clasped ankles, and formed a web, a great net of souls, and the souls were three-atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone, and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired. Nothing’s lost forever. In this world, there’s a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we’ve left behind, and dreaming ahead. At least I think that’s so.” 

-- Tony Kushner, Angels in America 

[continued] "A nice coat of "one day's", "if only's" and "maybe next time's" begin to dull our box's colorful packaging. And we aren't closer to deserving that box, nor is life any closer to handing it to us."  --AJM

"We tie up our happiness with satin ribbons, and place it on a shelf, pronouncing to the world that we will open that box, when we deserve it." --AJM

Everything is so complicated.

Violence is a response to fear. Violence is never, ever the answer.

Thoughts.

I have so many thoughts.

I've read and I've listened and the state of the world at the moment is just.. beyond description. The world is breaking. The world is crying.

Social media has never been my platform. So I post nothing beyond pictures, ever. I don't even post jokes or joyous things. While I respect and cheer the people who are able to post and voice their thoughts, their hurt, their exhaustion, I never can. The issues to which people are speaking are not political. They are purely human. Even though I unquestionably want to support and share love, it still feels as though there is a performative aspect to it that's not for me. I don't want my level of frustration, of sadness, of fear, or of exhaustion to have to be phrased well. I don't want it to be paralleled against others. For it to be seen as too much or too little. It is enough. And it is uniquely my own. Even in real life, I don't like feeling strong emotions in front of people. And so I choose to write here.

It's entirely another thing to see friends that are usually more than just vocal on social media and clearly have no issue with it choose to remain silent at this time but that's another post.

I don't know where to start so I'll just begin here:

I was raised to be polite. I was raised to have my actions speak for me. To dress and behave as cleanly as possible. To know when something is wrong and to let my actions speak for why people's race-based perceptions are wrong but never to let my voice raise above a quiet dissent. Because, if I did, I would be seen as Angry. That I would be underscoring people's stereotypes. I was taught that, if I followed all of the rules, everything would fall into place. That I, my family, my friends, my loved ones, would all be okay.

 I was raised to be cautious, perhaps overly so.

Every black family that I know, mine included, has had that conversation. That if an officer confronts you, it's only Yes, ma'am or sir, No ma'am or sir.  To not be out past a certain hour. To always dress well even when I'm going somewhere as basic as the local store so that people don't assume I'm a criminal. Assuming that if you are not beyond courteous, you cannot expect the benefit of the doubt.

All because of the color I was born.

What hurts is that there is no where for me to go. I hear stories of a man in Italy being killed for defending his wife when strangers called her  monkey because of the color of her skin. I'm told of people in India using bleaching cream and staying indoors for months so that they can be light enough to hope to marry well. I'm told of people in the Dominican Republic trying to "advance the race" by marrying people of lighter skin tones and having lighter skinned children. People in China, where I'm likely to go at least once in the upcoming year, treating white foreigners like royalty and black ones like dirt. In the U.S., even among black people, I hear nonsense about #TeamLightSkin vs #TeamDarkSkin. My dark skin is seen as a negative. As something that makes me less beautiful, less desirable. In. Every. Single. Community.

It is so ingrained. No where is safe.

What, I ask, is so poison about my hue that people globally run from it so unabashedly?

Even in Nigeria, my family's home country, I'm my natural, god-given hair is seen as unmanageable, unprofessional, and "bush". I'm asked not if but when I plan on chemically straightening it. Wigs are everywhere because that is what is considered beautiful, sexy. And I have such conflicting opinions because people should be able to do whatever they want to feel beautiful. And yet, where does that perception of beauty and desirability come from?

I don't understand it. People continuously use my skin color as something definitive. If I'm successful, people claim it's because my skin color gave me opportunities as a minority. If I'm not, people see me as just validating the preconceived notions that they already had that, because I'm black, I'm supposed to be lesser. Somehow, my negative results and actions speak for my race. My positive ones only speak for me. I become an exception to the rule.

I'm leaving the country soon and one phrase that I keep hearing is to "be safe." That sentiment implies that I have to practice extra caution upon leaving the States. That the "other" is unsafe. That thought is built upon the idea that home is safe. And yet, especially now, I am continuously reminded that it is not.

I am lucky to have been raised in a microcosm of what many imagine the goal of the United States to be. I was raised in a place where so many cultures and countries mesh into one feeling of home. Where dozens of languages can be heard spoken freely in the local mall.

I used to believe love would conquer all and skin color wouldn't matter. That's what I still want to believe.

And yet. Even in this supposed promised land for race and race relations, dark-skin always finds a way to make life harder.

My cousins, people who grew up under the same house with the same beliefs and the same rules have been stopped by authorities simply because they "looked threatening." At my old summer program of young minorities, mostly black and brown, aiming to become MD/PhDs, even in uniform, we were told not to walk in too bing of groups together because people might see numbers of more than 3-4 as threatening. In general, any non-black people who I connect with on Tinder either talk as though they have a fetish/ pre-conceived notion of how I'm supposed to be or act as though they're doing me a favor by talking to me. Growing up, before I had the chance to meet friends' parents and family members, my friends told me that they were warned to be cautious because I was black. That they weren't allowed to come over to my house. So I learned how to be charming. How to make friends and people like you quickly. So, that of course changed when people met me, my siblings, and my parents but the fact the sentiment existed in the first place hurt. That happens even still. Not as blatantly. But I've noticed that when friends introduce or explain me to their parents, they tend to list my credentials. To list Google and HBP and NU and various leadership positions that I've fought teeth and nail for. As if to justify why I'm "different" and okay to befriend. Even I've caught myself changing my tone of voice and the way I carry myself  as if to say "Don't be afraid." When my parents bought the house I was born and raised in, they had a white family friend express the initial interest for them because they worried that the real estate agent would try to deter them from the neighborhood for because they were black.

Violence does not have to be physical.

Why am I, and people who look like me, assumed bad until proven otherwise?

That is my experience. All this from someone who was taught to be polite, to be quiet, to be likable.

And still, people hold fast to the claim that we as a country are beyond this.

So when people are marching in the streets and saying enough, finally ENOUGH, people ponder a way to make this not about race. To frame people speaking up under the very same preexisting stereotypes and prejudices to which they are protesting and framing them as more violent. That blows my mind. The anti -black sentiment is so real in this country and around the world.There is more widespread outrage when a gorilla is show that when, repeatedly, black people are murdered on camera. When there are dozens of events that we seen on the news, continuously filmed so you can watch them yourself, how can anyone still believe that such things are isolated? These are only what's caught on camera.

One of the uncles that I'm closest to is an officer and I unquestionably respect the importance of law enforcement in our society. But, and this is key, only when done right! Systemic oppression does not mean that there is some overlord actively sending out troops to kill black people. It does not mean that as black people you are entirely free from being accountable for foolish actions. But it does mean that there is a huge, widespread issue that goes deeper than claiming you're not racist because you have a black friend. Being against the racial prejudices and murders that are happening in our society does not mean you are against white people or authorities.

I love people. So much. All people. I really believe that, at the core of humanity, we are good. Of course everyone's life matters. But, right now, so many parts of society are telling me that black lives don't. So all lives won't matter until black lives do. Everything is not fair. Everything is not okay. Don't pretend like it is. Don't tell me race doesn't matter when I've experienced it coloring so many aspects of my life. While I wish it were, love is not currently enough to conquer all.

There are so many ways to justify your own beliefs. You can find articles on either "side" of this blaming and faulting xyz party. But I don't believe there are or should be "sides". When you don't see something happening in your world. Fine. But when someone tells you it is happening look it up. Believe them. And when it's finally brought to your attention, speak up! Act! I just believe that we are all human, all equal, and should treat one another as such. But when that is not the case, as we see presently, we should say something.

Even with feeling all of this, I still have a few issues with the movement. With all of the energy, meaning, and power that it has, I think it has little if any direction. Beyond awareness, which I applaud the movement for bringing to people's attention, what is the goal? How do we plan on getting there? There is so much non-utilized potential. Also, in my experience I think that, too often, some of the loudest voices in the movement are prejudiced against non-black people even if otherwise is claimed. While it is completely valid to want to have spaces for mourning and joy that are strictly black and within the community, people outside of other races who truly want to help, honestly, are often left confused. Do they speak up and voice support or stay quiet and let black people have their space? The contradictions in people's suggestions can lead to paralysis and, once again, that lack of leadership and direction. But until I have a better suggestion, I plan on supporting it.

There are so many race and color issues still happening in this country. Way beyond police brutality. Simply asking people to check their prejudices before shooting to kill is just the most clear, pertinent and lethal threat.

And that's just America. So, so much is messed up in the world right now. I just-- I don't know what to do.