My daughter wrote this a few days ago. She gave her permission to share here:
Growing up my dad made me and my sisters ride in the car with him while he ran errands. He kept a tape recorder in the glove box. I hated it. I didn’t want to go everywhere he went. I didn’t understand his paranoia over being pulled over by the police. As a young girl I thought he was overreacting when he’d tell us the stories of being profiled. Of being pulled over and arrested. I thought he must have done something wrong or they wouldn’t harass him.
As the years have gone on I am so aware of what he was doing and that he wasn’t paranoid. He hoped that having his three very young daughters in the car with him would spare him his life. He thought having it recorded on audio would prove something in court if he needed it.
I am grateful to him for teaching me the hard truth that black skin is never safe. It took many years to realize it. All of these deaths at the hands of white officers caught on camera prove a sad reality that my dad’s three daughters in the car with him would not have saved his life if the officer had motives to kill him.
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I think about my own son who is black and beautiful and so kind and loving. He has a great heart and a sweet spirit. The police don’t know any of that when they look at him. White people don’t know that when they look at him. They see someone who looks different than them. They see a potential threat. I don’t know how many times I have told him not to wear a hoodie. Don’t wear a bandana. Cut your hair. Shave your face.
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Driving down the street the other day, there was a cop behind me. I thought there’s no reason I’d be pulled over and if I did, I’d be fine. I was talking myself out of feeling anxious. And then I realized I don’t know how a ransom stop would turn out. I could only hope.
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My heart breaks for another death at the hands of the police. My heart breaks for George Floyd’s family. My heart is heavy.
💔
#blacklivesmatter
#heartbroken
#georgefloyd
