Final Thots for Mr. Ahmaud Arbery:
I don’t want your sympathy
I just need you to understand
One of my favorite shows
Is a show called Westworld on HBO
The plot in season 1
Is all about these rich people who come to this
Theme park - Westworld
A country western 1800s type place
And here they get to be whoever they want to be
A hero . A bounty hunter . A villain
And inside Westworld are these
Very real, very life-like robots
They look and act just like humans
The visitors don’t know who’s real and who’s not
Until they malfunction or you shoot them
Because the visitors can’t die
But the robots can
See in Westworld
You, as the visitor, can do whatever you want to these robots
There are no rules, no punishments, no consequences
The visitors have the complete support and encouragement of the park operators -
The system
And these robots deal with their fate
Their memory and history erased
Some get sent down to this cell to be forgotten
Others get rebooted
And sent back out to the world
To be used, abused, and killed
All over again
What am I saying ?
Until now - Until Mr. Ahmaud Arbery
As a Black Man in this country
I’ve never felt more connected to those robots
To know that a visitor
Can kill me or anyone else who looks like me
And has the full support of the system in doing so
And nothing happen
No Rules. No Punishments. No consequences.
In fact, their participation is the rule
And I am deserving of my punishment
It’s why I was brought here to begin with
For their entertainment - their target practice
And I am forced to have to literally watch
As others who look exactly like me
Face the same fate
Over and over and over and over again
“He reached for my weapon”
“I was afraid for my life”
“Stand your ground”
“It was an accident”
“Citizens arrests and self defense”
“I thought it was my apartment”
“Closed casket homie”
“Not guilty” “Not Guilty” “Not Guilty” “Not Guilty”
And just like the robots in Westworld
The hardest part about all of this
Is realizing that my life - as a black man -
Has zero value
In the eyes of the system and of the law
And sometimes of the visitors themselves
The same visitors that supposedly believe
“All Lives Matter”
And the same system that is supposedly blindfolded but clearly peeks beneath the mask
And the same law that arrests
A murderous father and son only after their crime has gone viral
75 days later
We never asked to come here
But since we are here
All we ever asked for was equality and opportunity
To not be so burdened by the constant thoughts
That come with wearing this Black skin
“Should I wear this? Should I say that? Am I being too loud? Let me turn this music down. Am I smiling enough? Let me put on my work voice. Should I wear my hat backwards or to the front? Do I fit the description? I always fit the description. Should I cut my hair? Is it too natural for this interview? No of course it’s not a problem. It’s my fault.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Our entire life is a series of rehearsed defense mechanisms
To make others feel comfortable
And feel like we are not a threat
And even that isn’t enough
You woke up today, yesterday, and the day before
With some worries and problems sure
But nothing that was permanently attached to your skin color
If a white person gets killed
You don’t feel the weight of your entire race bearing down on your shoulders
If a white person shoots up a school
You don’t feel the stares as if you pulled the trigger
You had the luxury of just waking up as you
I’m jealous of that
Because when I woke up this morning, yesterday, and the day before
I woke up in sadness, anger, and in a daze
I woke up to text messages from other Black Men
Worried. Confused. Angry. In repetitive disbelief
“This could have been me ... again”
I woke up listening to Black fathers conflicted and wondering the best way to teach their young Black sons how America looks at them
How do you tell a child some people will hate them because they are Black ?
That he may not have a chance to live to an old age - hell to his 30s - because his skin color is less than
A childhood now ruined by reality
Simply because of the color of his skin
Because Tamir Rice found out when he was only 12 years old
I don’t want your sympathy
I just need you to understand
That it may not look like it
We live in two different places of the same place
My America looks nothing like yours
Mine is more similar to the “Upside Down”
To steal from Stranger Things
We get a glimpse of the beauty of your world
But get reminded, quite often, that it isn’t meant for us
And even despite our differences
Sometimes we have more in common than we could ever know
Even if it doesn’t affect you personally
It’s okay to be upset about the very same things Black folks are hurt about
But more important
It’s okay to speak out when you know something is wrong
Especially to those who do not look like me
And the people who won’t listen to me
But who need to hear it - from you
Sometimes there is comfort in knowing that you actually get it
If you know within yourself
That you would never want to trade lives with me
Then you know everything there is to know about my life in this country
And you also know how very wrong that is
And even if you asked
I don’t want to trade lives
Because to know that somehow, some way,
I made it in America
As a Black man
Is worth all the risk
And yet, I still don’t want your sympathy ...
I just need you to understand.