Justice doesn’t exist

I just finished (if that’s even possible?) a Facebook discussion (read: argument) with one of my husband’s friends. About Ferguson. And ultimately, instead of responding to any of the substance of what I said, she decided to end by trying to make me feel sorry for her because her boyfriend is a police officer and I could never understand what his (and her) life is like.

Obviously, I don’t understand what it’s like to have a significant other, friend, or family member who risks their lives probably on an almost-daily basis. I would never pretend to understand that. Obviously, if I were in her shoes, I might have a different perspective on what happened in Ferguson on August 17th.

But I’m not. And I am still allowed to have an opinion, even if I don’t know what it’s like to worry about a loved one getting injured or killed in the line of duty.

I do know what it’s like to worry about children, though.

About children who are disadvantaged from the start because of the color of their skin. About children who will inevitably be stereotyped and judged for absolutely no reason throughout their lives. About children who are statistically more likely to end up incarcerated than their white peers. About what will happen to children when they grow up and are viewed as dangerous, for no reason other than the color of their skin.

I’m so angry right now I’m getting a headache. My stomach is in knots. We’re never going to move forward in this country if we don’t acknowledge the pervasiveness of racism (yes, STILL) and start working to dismantle it. Clearly, too many people care more about protecting police officers’ right to use deadly force than they do about the absolutely mind-blowing number of INNOCENT PEOPLE who have been killed using that deadly force.

Wake the fuck up America.

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