I’m watching the story of Freeway Rick Ross and I just had a ton of suppressed memories hit me. Things I intentionally forgot because there were just too painful. I’m not ready to dissect them yet.
But, I’ll never forget my fathers scream as they stabbed him. I’ll never forget the gun they pointed in my face. I’ll keep hearing the alarm siren ringing from the basement stairs all through the house. I remember the broken piggy bank, dodging bullets on the walk home from school. I remember my cousins funeral. I remember the memorials in high school. I had to make adult decisions at 5, 6, 7 years old. So many of my friends didn’t make it to 30, let alone 18.
I didn’t know how dysfunctional life was.
But I damn sure know now. And I damn sure know where it came from.
YES I’m angry. And I’m bitter. And I DONT trust white people. I hate this government and the very least it can do is pay us what it is owed. I don’t trust the CPD, I want all those pigs to fry. They tried to eliminate our families! They murdered Chairman Fred Hampton and replaced him with crack cocaine. I’ll carry that resentment and hatred even after my last breath.
Boycott fucking forgiveness.
These fucking kracka’s tried to ruin my family. My friends. My neighborhood. My pride. My education. My food.
If it wasn’t for my mother, I don’t know where me and my brothers would have been. If it wasn’t for my mother, my father would have been murdered/died 25 years ago. If it wasn’t for my mother, the streets would have taken me away. And it came closer to doing that more times than anyone knows.
I have more faith in righteous black women than I do any other people or institution. Black womanhood is the ONLY thing that has saved us from those goddamn demons.
So, no. I’m NOT an American. I’m not a citizen of this country. I don’t believe in its laws or leadership. I don’t believe in it’s systems. Because those very things have tried to destroy me and you.
I’m an African woman.
I will keep fighting and surviving and saving just like my mother did all of us.