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Make me wanna holla throw up my hands

Make me wanna holla throw up my hands

 
After another week of senseless killing of black lives at the hands of law enforcement, protestors have taken to the streets of Tulsa and Charlotte. 195 Black Americans have been killed by police so far this year, at a rate of 4.86 deaths per million. My brain and my soul are exhausted by the lawlessness, and yet the discussion must continue.
I have questions; I have comments, I am hurt. I am not a hashtag; my sons are not hashtags, my husband is not a hashtag, my daughters are not hashtags, I have 5 grandsons they will not be hashtags!
The black community as a whole now lives in fear of being another hashtag. This is no way to live. We are not free when we live in fear.
White people don’t live in fear. They have a privilege that they are not even aware of. We are being shot in the street, treated less than animals, and yet we get dressed and go to work and continue to hope for the best. I have to reinforce to my children that they matter, that working hard and getting an education pays off. But it is becoming increasingly difficult.
I’ve seen my coworkers are crying in the restrooms and hallways. I walked past people crying in the streets. The hum that I hear on the earth is becoming increasingly louder. It is the sound of warriors getting information. They are fearful, but they are gathering.
How can you justify a race of people being profiled as a threat before they enter a room? How can you consider a Presidential candidate that asks a race of people, “what do you have to lose?” If justice does not happen… if someone does not acknowledge black people’s inhumane treatment, more than businesses and cities will burn.
How can you tell people not to burn down the city? There was no media coverage of these senseless killings until the city started burning. I’m not for violence, but sometimes a fire has to be lit to bring attention to darkness.
How is a Terrorist able to plant multiple bombs and shoot at police but be taken into custody alive, but a man with his hands up, next to his stalled car, be shot and killed? Who is the threat?
In 1971 Marvin Gaye wrote a song titled Inner City Blues that is better known as Make Me Wanna Holla:
Oh, make me wanna holler And throw up both my hands Yea, it makes me wanna holler And throw up both my hand’s Crime is increasing Trigger happy policing Panic is spreading God knows where we’re heading Oh, make me wanna holler They don’t understand Dah, dah, dah.
Black lives will not matter until somebody shows us that they do. All of this has made me wanna holla and throw up my hands!
Add your comments below. Somebody help me through this…
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