Shaken and Stirred

While I usually have opinions and reactions to various things that happen in this larger country of the united states, they are not known beyond my immediate circle which is a rather small circle. And even then, my emotions are not very intense nor do they last very long. This time it's different.

Minneapolis, MN. 

I have shed tears watching the video of Floyd, reading and listening to stories of his friends, relatives, and fiancee on the news, and reading stories of black men who have to call the police ahead of going to do their jobs in a neighbourhood where they are likely to have the police called on them for doing just that. My heart just aches. While I knew I was upset about it all, just how much really didn't hit me until perhaps some hours ago.

Driving back home this morning, I noticed flashing lights on the street ahead of me; The car slowed but my mind raced. "There are no immediate turns to allow me to avoid passing the vehicle", "I could turn around but that might look suspicious?", "I should speed back up or I might draw attention." Turns out it was a maintenance vehicle just sitting there with its lights going. Whew.

Still going, I'm daydreaming at a stop light and call my mum (hands free), light turns green, I turn left into the left lane rather than the right lane where I usually go. That's when I noticed the cop car stopped across the street at a light behind me. I don't remember any physical reactions because [distractions] but I pulled into a church parking lot to continue talking to mum.

On getting home and talking to Beau about what happened my voice broke and tears poured, surprising me. It was only at that point that I realised that I must have been damn scared. Probably irrationally considering the maintenance car was empty and the police car didn't even cross the street before I turned off the road but it is evidenced over and over again that the colour of my skin and the skins of my hearts seem to attract the same irrationalities.

Necks are meant to cradle the heads of loved ones not choke under the knees of blind, close-minded, colourless, hyperinflated egos.

The colour of the wrapping paper doesn't change the gift inside. 

WE. ARE. WORTHY.