I Am A Black Woman

        I have four siblings. Three sisters and a brother. A father, mother, numerous aunts and uncles. I have the type of family where nothing is perfect but the love is like steel. I was taught from a very young age to value family because even if I lose everything tomorrow. All I will have left is my family.

        We are diverse in personality, opinions, economic status, and education goals. But we are the same in that our skin is always black. We go to sleep black and we wake up black. Our lives are dedicated to living peacefully and setting examples for future generations.

        Today I woke to find streaming on my newsfeed more stories of violence and death. I woke up to hear that seven children will never see there father again. Four children, states away, also lost their father just days ago.

        I teared up because i was not shocked by the news. Surprised that these men were shot. It seems like a weekly occurrence. We hear about the treatment disparity for people of color. The stereotypes they are subjected to in their interaction with the police and with the justice system as a whole.

        We read stories in which the police, our protectors, are able to disarm and deescalate situations with suspects. How arrest are made daily without the use of deadly force. We read stories in which judges sentence men of color to years in prison for crimes men of traditionally european descent only get months.

        I live a life of love and service. My motivation each day is to wake up and contribute to the world in some positive way. I do this through my writing, through my actions, through the way I interact with people.

        Why? Because when I step through the doors of my home I step out into a world filled with preconceived notions about me.

        Strangers have no idea who I am and what I am. They only see the clothes I wear and the color of my skin. Based off of this they reach conclusions perpetuated by whats portrayed on television and in movies.

        For some reason initially before I speak they do not see a well educated soft spoken woman with drive and  an easy going personality. Before I open my mouth most people expect for me to be loud and brash. To speak in ebonics and be angry.

        I live in a world where those with the same skin as me are looked down upon and told that they are less then. As a black woman I am always aware of the danger I could find myself in by making the wrong decision. I know there is a system set in place meant to keep me from utilizing my full rights are a human being.

        This is not paranoia, but acknowledgement of the world I live in. It is not a safe one or a fair one, but it is one in which people of every ethnicity should feel properly protected.

        I have four siblings. Three sisters I would go to hell and back for. A brother I would give my life for. We were raised by two naturalized citizens and told constantly to reach for the stars through education. "The way to succeed in this life is to get an education, work hard, pay your bills, and respect the law."

        Education cannot stop bullets. Working hard cannot stop bullets. Paying your bills and respecting the law will not stop bullets. Respect does not mean submission.

        Respect by definition is a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements. Submission is the action or fact of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person.

        I have respect for police officers who wake up on a daily basis and do their job with responsibility and loyalty to the community they are tasked with policing. I have respect for the police officers who understand that as arbitrators of the law, they are also responsible for following those laws as well as enforcing them.

        I do not submit that the police have an automatic authority over me. Not when I have not broken any law. Not when I as a citizen have the right to a trial and am innocent until proven guilty. It seems that when you have the skin color I have all to often the police officer is not just the arresting officer. He is also the judge, jury, and sentencer.

        This country that I love is not following the words and ideals it was built upon. All the people on its shores are are not free from persecution. Its people are not free to live and chase their dreams. Instead minorities are constantly told to assimilate and cede parts of their identities in the hopes they can live in peace with the majority.

        I do not write these words to bash, but to say I am a black woman. I am a daughter. I am a sister. A Godmother. I am human and one day I hope to be able to add Aunt, Mother, and Wife to that list. I am black, but I am not intrinsically violent. I love and yes sometimes I get angry. But that does not make me a monster or something to be feared. That makes me human. As a human being I have a right to leave my home and return home safely at the end of the day.

        I have a family and they are human beings. Those men and women also have a right to life and to live through an interaction with the police. Why does it seem like some find that concept difficult to accept? Why do some feel as if that is a point to be argued? As if life is something so fluid it can be poured down the drain by anyone?