Seated at the town center waiting for the bank to open and typing on phone to pass away time as this woman walks towards me talking angrily …
An old man emerged from the supermarket with his hands and a couple of bags falling. I paid no attention because, well, my phone. But this woman saw him and rushed to assist him. All she was saying was that people do not care anymore and she had fallen off her bicycle weeks ago and everyone just walked by without helping her get back up. She was angry and I understood her completely.
I felt bad for not paying attention but I was discussing an issue with a friend. He had just seen the movie 12 Years A Slave and he was incensed! I reacted the same way after I saw it too. That’s only one man’s story. I could not imagine what my other ancestors went through. How could man be so cruel towards another? Oh yes, I was mad at the white race as my friend was. Mad at the religion they used to lure us into subservience. Mad at my people for still holding on to that religion and mad at the whites for still treating us unfairly. Oh yes, reparation is long overdue.
But I was trying to be the voice of reason. Telling him his anger should not be nurtured else he would be a hateful person and that would end up hurting himself.
I got home and read an article on the New York Times app about Mike Brown. The story was all over the place. The writer trying to portray Mike Brown as the angry black teen who had a violent streak in him and deserved what he got and at the same time trying to make it seem like he wasn’t painting him black (ha! The irony.)
Now I’m the angry one. I’m angry and sad. There’s not much we can do as blacks. The system has and will always be against us. It’s hopeless.
The woman who helped the old man’s words came back to me, “humans don’t care anymore.” I guess that’s the white perspective. But for me as black; humans have never cared.