I never met him, but the death of this 17yo young man has completely altered my life. As my niece (who did know him) said, “It’s a shame that this is how everyone is learning his name.” The past two nights, people protested the shooting of Antwon Rose (unarmed child) by a police officer; they walked miles to block traffic at popular driving areas, such as highway 376 and the homestead bridge. More demonstrations are scheduled all week, to send the message- “Antown mattered and the shooting of unarmed black youth needs to stop now.” These are peaceful demonstrations by a community affronted by society and ferociously grieving an unnecessary loss. His name was Antwon Rose.
Dear police officer, his name was Antown Rose. He was 17. He loved children and to volunteer. People claim that his smile could light up a room. He brought with him hope, joy, and life. He had plans and dreams. His, my /our community continues to love him. What he gave to others, was life. What he did, was live. How he interacted, was lively. With three bullets, you took his life. I ask you, if he were a white boy, would you have shot your gun. I know that we have to stop bolstering this divide between police and blacks. However, I feel like if we do not name this problem as a racial line that dangerously divides groups of people, then we cannot eradicate and eliminate a problem that threatens all of us. We have a police problem that has stemmed from generations of oppression in our country. I know as a white woman, it will be a challenge for me to describe a black person’s perspective. However, I am going to try so I can make a point and will do my best to honor what youth of color, friends of color, mentors and authors have communicated to me. Antwon’s poem “I am not what you think”, reflects a truth I learned from others- black people are afraid of the police. Black people have always been afraid of the police, and how could they not be. Ida B. Wells, documented over 10,000 incidents of lynching by whites of newly freed people, in the 30 years following the Civil War. Jim Crow laws legalized hate crimes against blacks that were enforced by police officers. Michele Alexander (2012), in her book “The New Jim Crow” suggests that Reagan’s War on Drugs was intentionally initiated as a mechanism to replace Jim Crow, leading to the mass incarceration of blacks (mostly men), based on minor drug offenses. She cites multiple Supreme Court cases that ruled in favor of discriminatory legislative and police practices, funded by the federal government, which led to the dilemma we have today. A disaster where blacks, especially young men, who are still undergoing brain development because they are KIDS, are justifiably afraid of the police. Antown’s prophetic poem communicated that deep fear. BLACK PEOPLE AND OTHER MARGINALIZED GROUPS ARE AFRAID OF THE POLICE!!! Unlike us whites, they do not have the liberty to walk, drive, shop, or live without being targeted. Now let me try to communicate what I believe Antwon was thinking before he ran. It is my understanding that Antwon and his friend took a jitney, or gypsy cab, to get pizza. Uber was not an option because you need a credit or debit card for that service. Antown probably did not know the jitney driver personally, and became scared when he heard the cop sirens. I am certain that Antwon, an intelligent individual started thinking to himself, “What if there are drugs in this car that we don’t know about. I could get arrested as an accomplice. I might not be accepted to college over this or if I do, how will I pay for it. If I get arrested I will be stuck in a cage. If I can’t go to college I might as well be dead.” He wrote it himself, “there are only two ways out.” He tried to escape so that he could escape the right way, in a year. I know this sounds like faulty thinking, but have you ever sat down with teenagers, and oppressed teens at that? They are intelligent, passionate, and inspiring; however, they lack rational and consequential thought processes. As mentioned in a previous blog, brain development ends at the age of 25. Is it really faulty thinking though? I might be wrong, but I feel really strongly that I am accurately communicating why Antwon ran, and I understand where he was coming from. Where do we go from here? Antwon cannot resume breathing. Woodland Hills, Pittsburgh, and America, we cannot and will not reverse this event, or all of the other unnecessary deaths. Why? Because we cannot and it is time to face our societal trauma, name it, and kill it instead of innocent blacks. As evidenced by our past and present, we Woodland Hills (now supported by the larger Pittsburgh community), know how to challenge racism and change society for the better. Woodland Hills, the school district both Antwon and I attended, was established by a court order to end segregation and unequal treatment of black students. One mother, led a movement for her son that created our school district. We right what is wrong at Woodland Hills, when given the chance. We make change. That is our history and the literal foundation of our school district. Yesterday, I felt so uncomfortable being white. Usually, I talk with people of color easily, just about anything. This was not the case yesterday. I was so ashamed about the color of my skin. Every time I interacted with a black person, I wanted to shout "I am sorry." They opened doors for me, helped me find stuff in the store, cheered on my dog and his stick/tree. I wanted to tell them to stop being so nice to me, “I’m white and I don’t deserve this treatment after Antwon was killed.” Sometimes I am really ashamed to be white. Should not all of us white Americans feel shame about our past and present? Colored youth, not just black, are killed and imprisoned every day because of institutional racism. We inadvertently mark them as ‘undesirable’, and that is the furthest thing from the truth. That is not my truth and I do not think it should be society’s truth, or anyone's truth for that matter. This world needs a reawakening. We need to unravel the past and remove its stronghold on our present. We must admit that there is no colorblindness in our society. We should appreciate and love our differences. We need to be honest with ourselves, and shout out for change. We did it in the 60s, so why not now? Antwon could have made this world a better pace by living in it, but that police officer murdered him. “It’s a shame that people know his name because of his death.” Antwon I am sorry you died. I am sorry for your family and friends. I am sorry for our community. Let us honor the boy that died, and think about “what man he would have become had he lived?” Antwon your life matters more than you ever imagined. Thank you for living…without you there would be no movement. As a nation, can we keep the momentum of social change that Antwon started for us? Can we protest peacefully every day, not just in Pittsburgh, but everywhere? Can we rewrite the laws? Can we mandate changes to police training? Can we learn to love and respect each other, regardless of skin color? Can we make sure that Antwon did not die in vain? Can we make sure that Antwon did not die in vain? Can we make sure that Antwon did not die in vain? In memory of Antwon Rose.
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Friendship
Have you ever gone on a trip too long, and felt your body sigh with relief as you saw the streets leading to your home? That body sigh…a total release of stress and anxiety are exactly how my true friends make me feel. I love my friends, and right now their expressions of care, love, laughter, and wisdom are carrying me through a difficult time in my life; just as they have so many times before. My mom had back surgery a little over a week ago. They found a broken bone, lots of scar tissue from when she had this same surgery 32 years ago, and a multitude of nerve damage. Needless to say, she is in so much pain. For the first time in my life, I am my mother’s caretaker and it makes me sad. My mom is my best friend in the whole wide world. I need her. Originally, the past few weeks I considered writing a blog about bullies after I realized I would be spending an extended amount of time in Pittsburgh. You see, I have been a target of bullying for as long as I can remember. In the past it hurt, and I would wear different masks as an attempt to hide and be accepted. However, as an adult the need to disguise and defend myself has gone away. Now, bullies are simple color palettes, my muses, who inspire me to paint my vision of the world through writing and social work. More important than those bullies, and most important of all, are my friends. My friends are the canvases that hold, support, and reflect back my vision of a better world to me. They are also my paint brushes and other artistic tools, who turn a colorful oblivion into something grand and beautiful. I love my friends. They share my values, receive my eccentricities with love, cheer me up, lift and embrace me. They love me too. This loving interaction with my friends is like a Northern Spring to me- that time of the year when suddenly, after months of white snow serene…severe chill, cold and obsolete... arrives green growth graciously. The sweet and sacred smell of flowers and pleasantness pervade the air. The sun smiles and I skip with joy, convinced that magic exists as I ease into awe. That is how my friends make me feel, exactly the same way as Spring in the North. They’re all that magical. How do your friends make your feel? How do bullies make you feel? I know that everyone gets bullied by people and life, or both maybe at the same time. It is really difficult not to invest energy in this negativity, especially when others go out of their way to hurt you. Bullies are like cement after it is mixed with water. If you get stuck in their stuff, neither you or your bully can move forward in life. That is until you, take a sledge hammer and breakdown. In my opinion, the best way to avoid the bullies’ bond or to break it, is to reach out to a true friend. Friends, our real friends, would never and won’t ever, let us get stuck. They will back us up, make us laugh, let us cry, tolerate our rants of frustration, clarify situations to our betterment, offer helpful advice, and love us. When we feel trapped, it is our friends who know exactly how to safely remove us from our cages before helping us rip the traps apart. Let me reiterate that our friends love us; we love them too. Love is the foundation of life; friends and family are the cornerstones. Each and every single one of us has a choice to make…to interact with others as a bully or friend. With some people, it comes naturally to be a friend and vice versa with others. I personally prefer friends over bullies. I know we all do. So what is the point of this blog? My point is friendship. I think that friendship is the solvable equation to personal and worldly peace. I believe we should first choose and make multiple attempts to act as a friend toward all people we encounter…I mean everyone. Offer to help someone in need, whether that need is physical, emotional, spiritual, financial, and more. Even if someone isn’t in need, act cool and start a conversation. Honesty is always the best policy, but humor is a close second. What do you have to lose by engaging or not engaging? Only you know that answer. I believe we should all do our best, not to be bullies. When we encounter bullies, I encourage everyone to reach out to friends. When we focus on what uplifts us, we feel uplifted. Just imagine what it would be like if world leaders decided to be friends…I mean all of them. What if they made a support network based on mutual aid, like friends do? What if they learned the important lesson that friends are constantly communicating….’it is better to receive than give?’. I go back and forth regarding my belief in world peace, although I never waver in my faith that equal treatment of all is achievable. When I write about my friends, talk to my friends, listen to my friends, laugh with my friends, be with my friends…I know without doubt that world peace is probable. We all know though that there are a lot of local, state, national, and international bullies. If people cannot choose friendship, what if they chose not to be or become a bully? What if we got rid of offensive and defensive strategies outside of sports? What would life look like if the bullies kept quiet or refrained from intentionally hurting and/or stagnating others? We as individuals are sometimes our own worst bullies too. What if we just stopped all that negativity? I know that there would be less suicides. I know that refugees would not have to be refuges at all, or they would be welcomed in a new home. I know that there would be less challenges with mental wellness. I am certain that school gun shootings would go down or cease. Race relations would improve. Who knows, we might even be able to save the rain forests if we decide not to bully the natives that live there. We would illuminate the world with love. I end this blog by repeating questions already asked: 1) How do your friends make your feel, 2) how do bullies make you feel, 3) do you want to be a friend to people, and/or 4) do you want to be a bully to people . This is your choice, despite whatever life experiences you have encountered, you do not have to be a bully. That is like letting bullying control you, your whole life. Like I said to my niece yesterday, "Do not let haters make decisions for you." It is not always easy to choose friendship. Sometimes it is really hard not to react, thus becoming the bully who bullied you. I do know that my friends, who chose me, make me love my life and feel like I can face any trial or tribulation triumphantly. My friends let me know that I am not alone. My friends took off the layers of masks I used to wear, and helped me own me. My friends are like sparkly nail polish...they stick to me no matter what, and make smile every time I see them. The point being is my friends love me and I love them too. Thank you to my true friends. Thank you to friends across the world. Friends enliven everything. Friends- us, them, you, and me are our planet’s stars. Peace, Love, and Happiness Jess |
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