Black Lives Matter Matured Me
When I understood why people that looked like me were chanting ‘Black Lives Matter’
I knew I was no longer a child
The way my heart would drop when a new hashtag was attached to a new black body
Or the silent tears I would shed watching the mothers of Mike Brown, Tamir Rice or Trayvon Martin speak at a rally
I knew I had transitioned from childhood when I realized the weight one flag carried
The broad ‘X’ on top of a solid red stain that loudly screamed hatred without using words
When I discovered that people who proudly fly those flags are still stuck in the mindset that slavery was okay and black people are not equal
It was clear to me that I was no longer a child when Donald Trump became president
When people I had known my entire childhood openly accepted a man who ran his campaign on hate
People who would put their hands over their hearts and sing the lyrics ‘Land of the Free’ but agreed with the president that immigrants are not welcomed here
I understood I was past adolescence when I would have to go to school everyday and argue on behalf of my melanin covered brothers and sisters
When the world revealed its true ugly self and friends I once trusted took off their masks
I knew I was no longer a child when I realized
That being black instantly put a target on my back
That being black was to be treated as a wild animal that the oppressor wanted to keep caged or put down to keep silent
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