Difficult. The position that I’m in. As I sit at my desk inside my cubicle. The glare from the monitor cascading off of my keyboard. I feel helpless. Or better yet selfish. Reading articles of injustice and legal murder against those of my..
People who I share a common descent with.
My eyes water. So I must have some feeling about this. How am I helping? Or should I just like every article, reblog, retweet, YouTube video, or status update I come across. There’s my effort. All I can manage. I want things for myself and the people who matter around me. I have a decent job and mostly whites work here.
Got approached the other day while I was getting coffee. I was asked if I needed something. And do I work here? My badge was on. He didn’t ask in an open arms kind of way like he’s there if I need him, but maybe this person actually thought I couldn’t possibly be working here. For the first time ever. I got angry at something like that. Plotted a way to confront him about it. I opted against. What if this person had the power to take my job away. Everything I wanted for myself would be put on hold again. I’ve been tired of standing still. Did I back down at a time where I should have retaliated? Or was me thinking it’s not worth it justified? Usually when things like that happen to me I just shrug my shoulders and forget it. But maybe I’m apart of the problem. I’m too apathetic about stupidity. I’ll let you be ignorant over me trying to correct you. What if I’m aiding in things remaining the same? Here at my comfy desk while another one of us gets killed without probable cause.
That guy was 25. A year younger than me.
What’s going to stop them from doing that to me? Do I shout out my life’s achievements while their guns are aimed at my chest.
I went to college!
I work in IT!
I’m good at math!
My parents aren’t divorced!
I speak the Queen’s English!
I beg you m’lord!
What if I don’t have time to yell my defense? It’s scary. All I wanted to do was leave a legacy. What if I can’t and I die because of where my ancestors came from. It scares me. It angers me.
But still I sit here in my cubicle. Just hoping I’m never chosen. Hoping they listen before they kill me. I don’t want my sisters to see me dead. If it happens and someone records it. Delete the video so they don’t have to witness it, because it wouldn’t matter anyway.