(ThySistas.com) In 2016, when Donald Trump announced he was running for office, I must admit that I laughed harder than I ever did in my life. I could not for the life of me figure out who told him this was a good idea. Then something strange happened because people started paying attention to him. They actually started to listen to the sloppy, ill-crafted alt-right gibberish the campaign writers were feeding Donald Trump. Then, it was not funny anymore. It started to get frightening because his rhetoric started to get worse, but they still listened. His campaign gained momentum and the words and actions got darker and those who were starting to buy in didn’t see the writing on the wall.
In 2016, America began to feel less and less like home. She has always been fickle to people of color. On one hand, she promises equality and protections under the laws that protect a first-class citizen of this nation. In the other, she offers the ugly underbelly of her beauty with blemishes like systemic racism and police brutality, little to no access to adequate health care, food deserts, and a wealth gap that keeps expanding by the year. She is the beautiful lover who plays you for a fool every time you trust her.
Trump’s aura made some of the most heinous white supremacists come out of their crypts to dazzle us with their bold, more sophisticated brand of racism. Long gone are the days of night rides and sheets. It’s now done with a tailor-made suit, more hair product than the law should allow, in broad daylight, and under the guise that the playing field is equal. Actually, they will shout about the myth of reverse racism and blame everyone but themselves as to why CIS hetero white males feel stepped on. This America became the norm for four years. Otherwise, decent people began letting their ugly sides show and inflict damage on their fellow citizens who just wanted to go about their day. Non persons of color using their power of privilege to exact control over black and brown bodies for harmless daily activities. Nothing new to blacks because this has been the pattern for us since we landed on these shores.
Yet, when the Capitol was raided by Trump protestors prowled the halls of Congress, my heart shattered. Though I feel like the red headed stepchild of this country, it’s the only one I have. Both sides of my family have sent loved ones to fight, be injured or died defending a country that perpetually stacks the deck against them. I watched as armed perpetrators ransacked offices and fought police officers to protest a fairly held election that the loser said was rigged.
The only thought I had was, “If they had been black!” Therein lies the dilemma that I feel some blacks have. When we protest the injustices that we suffer, we are quickly put down with the force of a mighty hurricane. No prisoners are taken, and no quarter offered. However, when a different demographic physically assaults the Republic in the most egregious ways then they are handled carefully while being arrested and given opportunities to leave peacefully.
Calls for them to be named were made whereas authorities would lock up Black Lives Matters protestors on the spot even if they were peacefully sitting on a lawn (see Daniel Cameron and Breonna Taylor). We are told how, when, and what to peacefully protest while others are told it is a constitutional right and to exercise it freely. Being a Black American is like being caught in the twilight zone; sometimes you love your home but it does not love and you have to grin and bear it. Just like Langston, I, too, song America.
Staff Writer; Jessieca Carr
One may connect with this sister online over at Instagram; susiecarmichael1920 and Twitter; noladarling1920.