Although we are all in the same boat, some people have life-vests, flares, food and first aid. Others are in the hull with nothing more than duct tape, attempting to plug the holes in the vessel before too much water seeps in. Those above deck may feel prepared to ride out the storm, but they are only as safe as the people who will inevitably drown below, eventually sinking the entire boat and everyone on it. With so many different variables affecting how people experience the Pandemic, there is no one correct way to react to its consequences. This was also true for my mother.
When I first scrolled across the story, it was shocking that this could be happening again, and in this century! Though it was shocking enough to give me pause, I kept scrolling, hoping it was nothing but clickbait. Now, a week later, there is no denying the truth: in mid-November 2017, CNN reported secret footage confirming the sale of African migrants in Libya for as little as $400 per person. These migrants traveled to Libya with hopes to be smuggled into Europe, escaping the poor conditions of their homelands. Instead, they are being held captive without food or water, while badly beaten, sodomized or raped, and being forced to work in sub-human conditions without pay. They are being sold as property into indefinite slavery.
I bet you like that flag, Blue-blooded lover of a guns, Oh how beautifully, it waves for you. Should I keep running this race while tied to a tree? Seeing my peers pass me up never acknowledging their head start. So focused on their privilege, I forgot whats special about me.
“Another round?” Shamelessly, I wanted to visit with Enrique again and of course claim my 3rd glass of his velvety port. ”Guapa. You are having fun?” Call me guapa one more time, I thought mischievously. “Yes! And I’m going dancing with you tonight!” His eyes widened as he smiled. “Bryan me invita!” I explained in my broken Spanish.
[Read page one: Occupying Ferguson… and page two: Conquering Fear] Although I was absolutely willing to put my life on … Continue Reading A Tribute to Our Black Generation: Woke & Positive (part three)
[Read page one: Occupying Ferguson] At that time in 2014, I was tangled deep into the black web of Tumblr. … Continue Reading A Tribute to Our Black Generation: Conquering Fear (part two)
Three years ago, today, I was driving in heavy stop-and-go Atlanta morning traffic. Per usual, I expected to reach maximum … Continue Reading A Tribute to Our Black Generation: Occupying Ferguson (part one)