It has been a year ago this week since the murder of Breonna Taylor in Louisville, KY. It has been a year since she was murdered in her house, after the police whom murdered her have not all been disciplined, neither have they all been fired, and the AG Daniel Cameron? He is not worth the last of anything. At all. Yet, Malcolm X said it best, “The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman.” Even with death, Black women can’t be respected! There are people who still believe she was in wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person that got her killed.
The presumption of innocence is never on Black people, neither is it given ever to Black women. Since she was Black, she must have been doing something sinister. Since she was a woman, she had to be a silly or somehow deficient to be there with someone whom clearly was a criminal!
Neither of these things are true. None of these things were true.
Breonna was a part of the world. A daughter. A sister. A lover. A friend and First Responder. She was part of the team you call when all is going wrong, who knew what to do. Who had the skills to necessary to save or stabilize life until you could get to other help.
For her life to be ended because of racism, injustice and error only to be further humiliated and dehumanized? It seems like all too much and all to unfair. I don’t think fair is the right word! Nothing about dying in your house is fair! Nothing about the police pulling kick doors, being charged for the bullets they fired into the wall, but not her! There is nothing fair about the reigniting of trauma our ancestors felt about slave catchers coming into their homes and snatching all they knew away! For the better part of a year, I have had the same reoccurring nightmare that the same would happen to me or my daughters–and no one could stop it! That no one would care, I would not be missed and I would rest in the land of my fathers. Just like King David.
Trauma is what happens when continued pain is unresolved.
We fight for justice, because we cannot afford to die because of its lack! We push because we cannot be pulled back towards into what fear and inequity bring! And for this reason, at this cause, do we fight! We resist! We organize, we vote, we reach and we call evil what it is so that we can be the good in the world we hope to see and leave.
For Breonna, now with the Ancestors, I say this.
There are no words I could offer to tell you how sorry I am that this happened, and that I see your face in the face of every Black woman I know. In the faces of my daughters. In the pain of my own mother. I remember and hope for better for us, and am willing to fight to do so, have it be so. You deserved help, long life, and the chance to be all you saw fit to be in your own dreaming. Now in that same land, in the middle of everything, please know that we have not forgotten you! Nor will we ever. I am we, and You are all of Us. As we all wait to go home, be confident of this thing. We are still fighting, Breonna. We are still fighting.