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I’m thinking about Chikesia Clemons and trauma, and where we go from here. I’ve seen a glimpse of the video of her being attacked by the police but have avoided watching it otherwise. there’s research and articles that confirm that black folks in America are living through PTSD collectively. then what does it mean to have to our trauma broadcast over and over again? * the stories are pretty much unavoidable. for the most part, I have chosen to not watch the videos anymore. I made this decision in July 2016 when the back to back murders of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling were broadcast. they made me think back to 2014 and watching the video of Tamir Rice’s execution. I remember I was sitting in the back seat of my dad’s car as he, my mom, and I were going grocery shopping for Thanksgiving. while my parents chatted about the state of black folks in America in the front, I quietly pulled up the video for the first time. I watched it over and over again; the time between the officers pulling up to this little boy among the snow and the moment of his execution was so brief, that I had a hard time processing what I saw. something truly broke in me then. I had for such a long time been inclined to cynicism and pessimism, but I don’t think I was really ready for something like that, a 12 year old shot dead in an instant. as my parents paused in their conversation, I said to my mother, “I just watched the video just now. do not watch it. I do not recommend looking at it.” * and yet through this despair, I naively felt certain that something would be done, justice would have to be served for this child. not because I believe in the American justice system (I did not then and I do not now), but because this was a baby. and it was so blatant. as the months and years passed, I kept watching other videos, more examples of state-sanctioned murder, thinking that I had to stay informed, that I had to keep up, or else. or else what? I don’t even know. I had to feel like people saw it and recognized the injustice and the terror of it. this was real, this was happening, and if I take it on and absorb it, and scream and cry and protest about it, then…. * it’s been almost four years since Tamir Rice left this plane of existence. what has changed? * when we share videos of black folks brutalized by the police, we publicize them because the public must know. they are pleas for help, for recognition, for humanity, for justice. but sometimes I imagine the other side of that, and wonder who else is watching? is this entertainment for them? does it reinforce the worldview that black folks are property to be put down when they are too much trouble? does Trump and his ilk jerk off to this shit? indeed, sometimes I feel like the videos are only masturbatory for our society, a way for our oppressors to get off with their rage, defensiveness, and racism, before they then get off legally, time after time. * I no longer watch videos of my people being murdered and abused. I’m not talking about being ignorant, escapist, or putting the blinders on when it comes to acknowledging these disgusting blatant injustices. I’m talking about redefining our understanding of ourselves for the sake of our liberation. so I feel compelled to question, what are we really inviting into our energies, hell, into our DNA, when we as a collective watch state sanctioned murder happen to the marginalized, over and over and over again? what comes next? * I can’t plead for my humanity anymore. I can’t make myself feel like I have to actively absorb the pain of others so that we can be saved. there has to be another choice, another way to live. I have to focus on providing folks the tools to not only survive this seemingly endless onslaught of torture but ways for us to thrive through it all. so I wanted to post this to make it clear that if you don’t see me posting about Chikesia Clemons and Brennan Walker and Stephon Clark, embodied souls and those no longer with us, it’s not because I don’t care. it’s not because I don’t mourn. it’s because the only way I know to be whole is to help other people navigate this fucked up world we created. the only way through this is to heal. I have to help call in another way to live.
please read the original post, linked below, on my cat before you comment! I am not looking for advice or tips on how to train my cat. I am looking to find him a loving new home. please respect that!
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Alia ra'naa Walstonintuitive reader and educator Archives
July 2018
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