On Ryan, Diane, and Wishes

As I take a moment to reflect on the week, like I do every Friday, I think about how much I want my people to feel safe, seen, heard, and rested.

I think about Ryan Gainer and how he should still be here if law enforcement officers were taught that the intersection of race and ASD often leads to fatal action at the hands of those claiming to serve and protect. I think about how his family will never be settled. I fear for the next Black person on the spectrum who finds themselves dealing with the police.

I think about Dianne Abbott and how she should be able to speak truth to power without being silenced and diminished by people of pallor who can't fathom the reality that their niceties are neatly packaged hatred. I think about the calls for violence against her life led by a pale millionaire who will likely face no repercussions for his rhetoric.

I sit with all of this and wonder why this is part of the Black existence, this pervasive fear for our lives, livelihood, and safety. Questions pop into my head:

How does it feel to be carefree and never honestly think about your life constantly being on the line for just existing?

What would people of pallor do if they were looking at a lifetime of scrutiny and danger for doing everyday things they take for granted?

What if having a disability increased their chances of being harmed by society because of the melanin in their skin?

Would people of pallor tell the truth about their traumatic experiences at the hands of the so-called dominant class if their lives and livelihood were in danger because of the discomfort those truths caused?

I ask those questions and then check myself because I know these questions never arise for most people of pallor. I know they never put themselves in our shoes; even if they did, they'd complain about the fit.

I wish Black lives and safety weren't a novelty.

I wish we could rest with a deep, whole-body rest that allows our bodies and brains to cry, exhale, and cry some more until we feel less weary.

I wish for things I'll never see in my lifetime, but that doesn't mean I'll stop wishing.

I want my people to feel safe, seen, heard, and rested.

I know that's too much to ask for in a world fueled by white supremacy.

[Image description: Two images. The first picture is of a young Black man from California named Ryan Gainer. He can be seen smiling at the camera while standing in a parking lot. The second picture is of a Black woman named Diane Abbott. She was the first Black woman elected to the British Parliament. She is seen smiling at the camera.]

On Nat, Magical Girls, and the Intersection of Justice

Sometimes, my energy is magical girl energy.

Sometimes, my energy is Nat Turner energy.

Either way, understand that justice is always at the center of who I am.

Also understand that you do not wanna come around me with hate and bigotry and catch me on a day where the Nat Turner in me pulls out his Sailor Scout wand to dispatch you and your ugliness.

Believe that.

On Tyre Nichols and Black Accountability Under the Spectre of Generational and Societal Trauma

Image Description: A picture of Tyre Nichols. He is smiling at the camera while wearing a lavender dress shirt, dark blue dress vest, lavender and dark blue tie, and dark blue pleated slacks. His hands are in his pockets.

T.W.: Murder, anti-Blackness, police brutality.

The murder of Tyre Nichols at the hands of five Black police officers in Memphis, Tennessee, is the intersection of white supremacy, policing, and Black self-hatred. The men that murdered Tyre were operating in a state of believing their police affiliation made them invulnerable to accountability, their Blackness be damned. They were feeding off the power they thought their positionality gave them and wielded that power to harm their own. And because they willingly disregarded the fact that badge or no badge, they're still Black men in the United States, this will likely be one of the rare times when police officers are held responsible for police brutality. And real talk?

They should be held responsible.

And Black communities should want them to be held accountable for murdering a Black man. Why?

Because accountability can't be a pick-and-choose situation.

Over the years, I've found that discussions of accountability for Black men who harm other Black people in Black communities often fall into the space of explanations pushing for why Black folx should forgive or disregard the harm they've caused. This is often frustrating for me to watch and engage with because too many Black people want to push forgiveness when Black people pose a danger to Black people or be outright quiet about it.

Regardless of the generational trauma we carry in our Black bodies, we cannot give a pass to Black people harming others while operating in spheres of white supremacist ideology. And we must stop providing Black men a pass when they harm other Black people. We've got to push through the discomfort and have hard conversations about accountability while respecting that trauma and self-hatred might be at play but not as excuses for murdering and harming others.

P.S., especially for Black folx: Please do not watch the videos of Tyre being harmed when they're shared with the public tomorrow. Don't do harm to yourself with this "Black trauma porn." You don't need to watch footage of a Black man being harmed in his final hours. No one does.

On tWitch, Trauma, and Being a Black Man in Peril

Image description: a picture of Stephen "tWitch" Boss. He is wearing a yellow beanie and a red and green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves. He is smiling at the viewer.

TW: Discussion around suicide and Black trauma.

With the passing of Stephen "tWitch" Boss, I found myself thinking again this morning about the weight many Black men carry in their brains and bodies.

I think about depression, anxiety, and how Black men and Black bodies have been conditioned to "just deal." In concept and conversation, I'm reflecting on the taboo treatment of mental health in many Black communities. I'm thinking of how my family scoffed at me when I brought up my struggles with depression as a teenager and adult. I think about how I was a functional alcoholic from 15 to my early twenties to dull the pain of feeling inadequate and unable to help my family rise from poverty. I look back on how my family and parents reacted when I mentioned one or all of my siblings possibly struggling with depression and anxiety. I find myself in my teens again, watching my father block out his depression and childhood trauma with gambling and alcohol. I reflect on how my father was in a near-constant state of unhappiness for most of my childhood and adult life and finding out about his decades of drug abuse a few years ago. And while mulling over all of these things, I can't help but wonder how many Black men might still be here if our community cultures didn't deter Black men from being vulnerable and more open to taking care of themselves and asking for help.

I wish being a Black man could include being a human being grappling with your trauma and emotions and seeking help and support from other Black people without being looked down on and being called a "sissy" or "punk."

I wish being a Black man didn't come with the spoken and unspoken shackles of "just deal" ideologies.

I wish being a Black man came with the option to believe in self-care and therapy and talk about it out loud to show other Black men, Black people, that you don't have to be afraid of being a multi-layered being.

I wish being a Black man didn't come with so many ingrained and societally-driven ways to die.

To my fellow Black men: it's OK not to be OK. It's OK not to "be hard" and walk around with a facade masking your pain and trauma. It's OK to ask for help. It's OK to prioritize your mental and emotional health. It's OK to be vulnerable and open and honest. It's OK to believe that you deserve to feel better because you do deserve it.

If you need help, please do not hesitate to seek help. Go to https://www.sprc.org/populations/blacks-african-americans for resources and information. Call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) or text the Crisis Text Line at 741741. Find a Black therapist in your area at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us and schedule an appointment as soon as possible. Get the help you deserve. Your life and health matter.

Black Mental Health Matters.

Rest well, tWitch. Rest well.

[Image description: a picture of Stephen "tWitch" Boss. He is wearing a yellow beanie and a red and green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves. He is smiling at the viewer.]

On Brittney, Breonna, and Giving Black Women Their Flowers

TW: Murder, anti-Blackness, violence, and systemic and intentional harm of Black women.

Brittney Griner was sentenced to nine years in prison today by Russian prosecutors. For a vape and some vape cartridges. And now Brittney Griner will be a political pawn in a dangerous "pissing match" game between two stubborn white cis men who fashion themselves as leaders. One was elected by the U.S. American people not because he was the most qualified but because we were given limited options. One elected himself by force, as white cis men are prone to do.

Nine years. For a vape and some vape cartridges.

It's taken over two years for the family of Breonna Taylor to even remotely see the possibility of justice and accountability for her unnecessary and reckless murder at the hands of Louisville, Kentucky, police officers. And while these are federal charges they're now facing, there's no guarantee Breonna's murderers will be held accountable for their actions.

Over two years. In a case where all the evidence points to blatant recklessness, endangerment, and murder.

Damnit.

This world truly goes out of its way to harm Black women, to disregard their worth and life, use them, drain them, and discard them. I'm tired.

I know Black women are beyond tired.

Sending all of my love, energy, and support to Black women today and every day as the world sends y'all reminders of how much y'all have to endure to live and thrive. Y'all deserve all the flowers, the love, and support in this cruel world.