When we talk about white children who die we call them CHILDREN. When we talk about black children who die we call them MEN. This is not ok.

"Both of the men killed in the explosions, Anthony Stephan House, 39, and Draylen Mason, 17, were black, and so..."

A seventeen year old is still a minor, still a child. I love the Parkland kids. Even the ones who are old enough to vote, because if you are still in high school you are still a child and we, the adults, should protect you. That is our purpose, our job. Notice I said kids; Even though at least one of the *faces* of our new reality is Emma Gonzalez, age 18. Honestly, I want be her when I grow up. We need to see our biases for what they are. Like one of the other Parkland kids, David Hogg, said, those of us who can need to use our WHITE PRIVILEGE to make sure the BLACK community is heard, too.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/23/us/austin-bombing-targets.html

			fear is the heart of love

“freedom” drips from our tongues
	runs in the blood of america like an inoculation
		we feel protected
			 impregnable
			
			 safe
 
we stand at the gates
	automatic weapons at the ready 
	automatic words at the ready
	automatic hate 	
			   at the ready

we shout out
	angry,
		laden with fear,
			wanting safety that we can’t put into words

we fly the flag of ancestors
	(orange and crossed)
	claiming “heritage”
	claiming “pride”
	claiming that hatred can’t live in a piece of cloth
	
	oh, but it does

the confederate flag flying
			proud
	from the window of your home tells me that we cannot be friends
		because that flag stands for slavery
						  segregation
						  racism

	that flag stands for hate
					and dominance of a people

we want to ban muslims 
build a wall against our neighbor
	we want to build a bigger arsenal
			and arm ourselves to teeth
we want to live like survivalists in a white, white world

	and we think that this whiteness protects us
					         elevates us
				we think this shroud and hood are becoming
								      are important

the road to muslim registries and even more persecution is paved with racist intent
	because we hate what is different
			we fear that which is unknown
		and here you stand,
				on our shores, in our fields
				climbing our mountains, and walking our orchards
			claiming freedom and greatness are simply ours for the taking

				but you are building with blocks of fear and hatred
					you are lying
					trying to change the meaning of truth
		
	and we are standing firm
		        standing strong
		        standing on the strength of our other ancestors
		
		        standing for truth and justice 
		        standing for equality

we will not be defined by this hatred
	we will be defined by strength and justice

	we will wrap your fear in community
		 wrap your fear in protests
		 wrap your fear in love love love

together we can refuse to live with hatred in our veins
	together we can turn fear into love

	together we stand










		the revolution 
                          (will be televised)





the revolution will be televised
bodycams and cellphone pics 

i see it.

you  see it.
 
    it’s everywhere

death
    bodies bleeding out
	on our streets
	in our cars
    young black men
	dying
    over skittles
	and hawking cds

we live in a world
    of fear and hatred

F E A R
	of the thin blue line
	of the people wearing their dark black skin
	of bullets
	of bullets
	of bullets
    piercing bodies
	    D E A D

and i don’t worry for my son 
    in the same way my friends worry for theirs’
    because 
	       chances are
	my son will survive
	walking the streets with skittles
			        and hoodies
			        and cds

and truth be told
	i hide behind my whiteness
i pass
     my grandmother’s beautiful darkness
	bleached to bone white through the generations
     her eyes
	married Wichita, Kansas
	and mine blaze blue
     generation after generation 
			we have whitened
	and lost our powers of speech
	       lost our spanish tongues

i pass

so it’s time for me 
	to speak   UP

to mention the thin blue line
	and dark black skin
	and of the bullets 
	           the bullets
	           the bullets
			that pierce the bodies of our kin
			that pierce the bodies of dark skin

the revolution will be televised
	and here it is caught on cell phone video
     we watch snuff films from the 
		safety
			of our laptops

     we cry our tears

and it’s time to say 
		 	 E N O U G H
because it is well past time
and i don’t want to have to explain this much death
				         this many bullets
				         this much pain
				to my six year old son
			i want his innocence to remain intact
				i want Travon’s life to remain intact
				and Alton’s
				and Micheal’s
				and
				and
				and
				and

the revolution 
(will be televised)
	
     

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