In this season of giving thanks and for all intents and
purposes of good cheer I find myself both with a heavy heart and feeling a
little headiness. Heavy hearted
for the fact that another African American male has died at the hands of a
known assailant and yet no one is to be held accountable for his death.
Heavy hearted because no matter if you know the victim or
not as an African American male you carry the weight of his death as if it was
your own or one of an immediate member of your family. Heavy hearted because with every
instance of such public deaths a portion of you dies and yet you are still
conscious enough to ask yourself why and what can be done to prevent such
occurrences from happening again.
However, in those instances I remember Emmitt Till, Johnny Mae Chappell
and Fred Hampton and the countless others that died the same kinds of public
deaths only to have their perpetrators go knowingly free.
Heavy hearted because you want to believe in those who have
sworn to protect and serve and in a system of laws. Yet the realty is you know that our lighter shade of brown
brethren don’t die because of loose cigarettes, loud music, whistling at women
of a different race or simply walking through neighborhoods at night with
nothing more than Skittles and ice tea.
Hang ups, let downs
Bad breaks, set backs
Natural fact is
I can't pay my taxes
Oh, make me wanna holler
And throw up both my hands
Yea, it makes me wanna holler
And throw up both my hands
Crime is increasing
Trigger happy policing
Marvin
Gaye
Inner
City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)
The headiness I feel is paralyzing because as a conscious
African American male you want to over stand because to understand may cause
you to miss something that can be the difference between life and death. Therefore, you relive both your
youth and your present for instances when you could have been a cautionary tale
about what can happen when you forget the rules of code switching. And you immediately account for the
young African American males you are responsible for to make sure that you have
taught them the rules of engagement.
There is a level of headiness as you try to find a plausible
escape for the emotions that you feel when your entire humanity has been reduce
to a hash tag that simply says black lives matter. However, the moment I have to remind
you of my humanity as a man, in particular an African American man is the
moment I have lost because it gives you the right to not see me as human and
therefore my right to exist becomes a matter of your judgment.
That’s My Truth and I AM Sticking to It
I AM
Dr. Irvin PeDro Cohen
