Injustice

"My goal in life is to love more then I hate. Laugh more then I cry. To have faith, even when faith feels wasted." Jen A. Durand, 2012

When we were younger, our parents invested a lot of energy in encouraging us to trust in the process. Stay out of trouble. Be honest. Good things happen to be good people. Honesty will set you free. There is a fairytale that is drilled into our minds. We are taught that all things and people are equal. The hierarchy stops at Religious Leaders, Adults, and Children.
Then as we get older… As our lives become more complex. Things begin to change. Differences that were always there begin to take center stage. Especially if our skin is a little darker. Our eyes slightly slanted. Or if our accents is tinted with a little something unique. Suddenly the fact that we are human beings first, stops being the fact that makes us deserving of respect. The hierarchy changes and the Class system, we as children did not recognize, becomes more obvious.
I want to believe that people are intrinsically good. That the perpetuation of the need to find and attach ourselves to social identities is something learned. Since the beginning of written history, it seems as if people have chosen to distinguish themselves by joining like-minded groups and forming the equivalent of a social club. It starts off rather innocuously. They gather around a concern or a shared belief system. They organize and attract believers. Followers.
Suddenly. Or not so suddenly this group has power and those who are outside of the group are lesser. And those who speak against the group or “system” is wrong. Pointing out inequalities is met with ridicule, excuses, or outright denial. This country was built on a set of ideals. Liberty, equality, democracy, individualism, unity and diversity. Yet at the same time, this country. The United States that I love was built over the graves of Natives Americans. Constructed by slaves dragged from their home, raped, and in some cases murdered by the same people escaping persecution for their own beliefs.
I would think that knowledge of the history in this country would have taught us something. Showed us the error in our ways. But in fact, the hypocritical inequalities that colored our beginnings are still present. Just in a more camouflaged form. This supposedly nonexistent class system is as sharp as ever and reinforced by the self-drawn lines of social constructs.
“Black Lives Matter.” “Asian Lives Matter.” “Blue Lives Matter.” “All Lives Matter.” These groups were created to fill a need. To express perceived absences of awareness about the dangers and injustices imposed on one group over another. Their causes and motivations are admirable. Black lives do matter. Asian lives do matter. Blue lives matter. All lives matter. I do not think anyone could argue those points. I think the biggest contention is that while those lives do matter. The rules that govern all of us are not applied evenly. “A man should not be judged by the color of his skin but by his moral fiber.” ~ Paraphrased MLK. I would posit that a man or woman should not suffer or gain because of their outside appearance, but be treated equally in every facet of life. The fact that someone is an officer does not exempt them from the vary laws they are tasked with enforcing.
The supposed “Blue Line” should not exist because the police should protect everyone Black. Asian. Pan pacific. African. Caribbean. Male. Female. They all should be treated with a basic amount of human decency. The justice system should be applied to all with an even and fair hand. The burden to prove guilt is on the people, not on the accused to prove innocence. Access to a fair and competent defense is the law of the land but is rarely carried out.
I am not writing this to speak poorly about anyone. I have a great deal of respect for officers who wear their badges without abusing the power imbued in it. I believe in the reasons for their existence, to maintain peace and order. What I am writing about is my growing loss of innocence. The older I get, the more aware I become of the ingrained racial bias that surrounds me. How unstable the ground beneath my feet is as a dark skinned, black, Haitian American woman in America. Imagine for a moment how jarring it is to realize that we are a food chain within a food chain. And you have the position of the thing that will be swallowed first.