I am finding it difficult to write about blessings this morning. Blessings. When the killing of Alton Stirling permeates the news. Many more words have already been and will continue to be published by writers who are many times more eloquent than I, and more knowledgeable about the details of this incident. What is there to say here?
I am in pain. But my pain and my tears are insignificant in comparison to the many more people who feel much deeper pain today.
His family, who tragically lost their son, their husband, their father…
The black community, who continue to be victimized by individuals in power, as well as a system that – more often than not – turns a blind eye to the injustices they face, and a citizenry who as-a-whole refuse to acknowledge the truth of these and shout in a deafening and universally unified voice for change…
The good and dedicated members of law enforcement who truly do protect & serve, yet bear the brunt of blame and are vilified-by-association for the actions of those whose idea of “justice” is twisted beyond all sense…
There is no rational perspective that witnesses via video the beating of Rodney King in 1991 and sees justice. There is no reasonable sensibility that witnesses via video the before- and after-math of the shooting of Alton Stirling yesterday and sees justice.
In the twenty-five years between these two incidents – as in the many decades before them – there have been too many beatings, injuries, killings of this kind. Why is there any question that the societal climate that engenders incidents of this kind is diseased? Why is there even a moment of debate about whether the system is in dire need of immediate transformation?
There is more than enough pain. Maybe this time there will be enough outrage.
Where are the blessings?