When They See Us: Ripping the Bandaid off for Fresh Air

Since I caught wind that Ava DuVernay was creating a mini series about the “Central Park 5,” I was overcome with emotion. I was excited, because although there was previous documentaries and coverage of this notable case, it just feels different when it’s coming form “one of us.” I was thrilled, because not only did I believe Ava would do right by the five men whose childhoods were cut short because of this, but I felt she would dig deep and research and share things that were previously unknown.

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Silent music

*A work in progress. Also a working title.

I thought our music would never die

We were a song neither of us knew

the harmony to but

Being caught up in the moments

Moments turn movements

Movements we created with our bodies

To our own beat, in sync

We flowed

To our own tunes

While the world, our worlds

Seem to crash down all around us

It didn’t matter

Our music lived

and neither of us knew

Well I knew, what it was

Because I fell in love with you…

– Viola Constance

He Told Me He Was Depressed, I Deleted His Number

I know that title seems harsh, but it’s fact. It had nothing to do with him being depressed or not being able to deal with whatever may come with that. Heck, I’ve been depressed before and I know that depression affects each person differently as well as each person finding different ways to cope with what their feeling and trying to make sense of it. It’s tough. Anywhos, earlier this month Proud Dad/Long Distant (PD/LD) called me after months of strained communication. During this brief conversation he asked had I  ever been depressed to which I’d answered yes (I’d shared this with him before, but did not say that to him). He asked how did I overcome it. I told him I honestly can’t pin point one thing. I told him after some time I was tired of feeling tired, down and feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t stand being in that state mentally or physically especially when I compared all of the things I’d gone through both good and bad, wanting to end my own life and all I’ve accomplished after the moment I decided to truly live. I’d be fighting hard to live and I had to mentally hype myself up to continue on. I told him I remembered what my mother and so many other black elders had told me and other before, “the worst thing that could happen is they say no” and “a no doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world does it?”. I was literally lying in bed feeling drained from just simple daily tasks (showering, eating and going to work) when I said you know what I’m going to just go for everything I’ve been wanting to do. I’d also decided I’d go sky diving and after not splattering all of the ground I pushed forward. I’d asked PD/LD if any of that even made any sense to him and apologized if I hadn’t been of any help.

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Enough Is Enough

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I am tired of being tired. I am tired of feeling helpless. I am tired. Enough is enough. In the last few days there have been senseless murders of men at the hands of “law enforcement.” People around the world are all cried out, drained from seeking justice and being met with a new name to hashtag.

So now what?

We march? We pray? We fight?

All the above I guess.

 

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