‘Police, Please Stop Killing Us’ — Signed, A Black American

In the past week, police around the country have killed multiple black people in cold blood. Add their names to the growing list of black people killed by police around the country without regard for their status as a human. Without regard for their family, their friends, their right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It’s no longer possible for me to sit idly and cry for the next hashtag. At this rate, what’s stopping me from becoming the next hashtag?

To be black in America at this point in time is to be three things: sad, scared, and angry.

Sad?

Because watching time and time again as our peers are murdered under the guise of “protecting us from ourselves” is so exhausting.

Because no man should have to listen to his parents worry for his well being on an evening drive.

Because no person should feel the need to whip out their phones and record their morning run “just in case.”

Scared?

Because seeing blue and red lights and thinking “shit,” not “safety” is a fact of life.

Because not knowing your father, your brother, your cousin, your son is going to make it home in one piece every night leaves a pit in your stomach every time they leave the house.

Because it’s terrifying to see an officer following you down a secluded block after dark, knowing that nobody is around in case “something happens.”

Angry?

Because I’m tired of waking up every morning to news that another one is gone.

Because you complain every day about the people you’re supposed to serve and protect.

Because you can’t expect anyone to take this kind of oppressive abuse again and again and again and again and again without some kind of response.

I’m tired.

It’s not enough for me to sit here and cry for my lost brothers and sisters. I’ve done that. I always have to do that. It’s time to start questioning why I have to live every waking moment in fear of the people charged with protecting me? What can I do to make you understand that I am not a threat? What can I do to make you remember that I’m human too? What will it take before you realize that my skin color is not a death sentence?

Please… Please stop killing us.