Ahmaud Arbery

My emotions are very close to the surface lately. Perhaps this is not a surprise, with a pandemic, not remembering the last time I hugged someone, and my fellow humans being murdered for going out on a jog.

Last night during dinner I began to watch Becoming on Netflix, a documentary about Michelle Obama. But I had to stop because the sight of her and Barak leaves me feeling bereft. How can I miss people I don’t actually know?

Perhaps it’s the hope I miss? The hope that the people in this country may actually be learning and growing?

We are not. There are still people who think it is ok to follow a black man while he goes for a jog and hunt him down like an animal. There are still many people who support those murderers.

I am listening to How To Be am Antiracist. The pressure to take in all the facts and notes and thoughts is reminiscent of school, and since I never felt very book smart, it is a struggle to listen to and take in.

Of course, How to Be An Antiracist is not a chick lit book. It’s not suppose to be fun, entertaining, or even interesting.

The internet is a constant barrage of bad news. A black man is murdered and justice only comes two months after it happens because a video of the incident gets out and the public is outraged. Those “in charge” then realize they better make an arrest.

It’s disgusting.

I have a friend who doesn’t own a car. He once told me he doesn’t mind not having one because he feels safer without it.

My friend who doesn’t have a car feels safer without it because he worries he will be pulled over and shot dead.

Imagine feeling like that.

Another friend posted on Facebook about a time he was assaulted in Boston. I do not know the details, but I promise you it was not warranted.

A woman on twitter said about Ahmaud Arbery’s murder “well we just don’t know the whole story!”

I’ve grown to really hate twitter. What a cesspool. I responded to her “imagine that scene in your head again but see Ahmaud as a white guy named John being gunned down while on a job in his own neighborhood. Then ask yourself again if you’d “need to hear the whole story””

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