I see an image of Ahmaud Arbery and I think of a young friend who has taken up running to get fit for his future career. I imagine him being chased and gunned down because a POC running must be coming from a crime scene, right?
That hoodie is soooo suspicious, amirite?
I imagine someone so certain he deserved death they brought a friend along to celebrate the hunt by videoing it.
And I can't breathe.
I think of Breonna Taylor, sleeping in her own bed.
I imagine myself being woken by armed invaders breaking through my door guns blazing, yelling contradictory orders, and wonder if it would matter at all that the invaders had "POLICE" printed on their jackets-if I'd feel more afraid, or just be confused before their bullets ended my life.
And I CANNOT BREATHE.
Then there is this nightmarish image. I see this picture of George Floyd, and think of the almost 9 minutes Derek Chauvin kneeled on his neck, choking the life out of a man so casually while those around him and Mr. Floyd pleaded for release of the hold. I add to this image the 3 complicit officers who apparently considered it utterly normal to terrorize a neighborhood like this.
I imagine in the place of Mr. Floyd's face, a young man I know, or one of my young cousins, while the life is slowly squeezed out from them.
AND I CANNOT FUCKING BREATHE.
We cannot keep doing this to people of color, and then say when their anger overflows into broken windows and blocking traffic that we'd be all for their goals, except, you know, property rights.
Because if what we take away from this is that property damage is the issue, we are prioritizing the wrong part of this equation.
Let us all take a breath, together, and find a way to begin to heal.
It starts by not accepting police murdering those in their custody as the cost of protecting property.
It does not end there. But it will be a start.