Don't Shoot

A couple of weeks ago, when it was raining like it does in Portland, my supervisor told me to drive carefully, I told her that I always do.  We, along with another co-worker, got into a conversation about how we drive, and I was the only one out of the three of us that is super cautious about obeying all of the laws of the road, even the speed limit.  Sure, I'll go five miles over on parts of the freeway that I am super familiar with, but you won't likely catch me going ten or miles over the posted limit.  They thought it was funny, but they didn't laugh when I said, "I'm terrified of getting pulled over.  Too many unarmed black folks get shot by the police in Portland."  The rosiness of their cheeks drained and for the first time since we've worked together, they were at a loss for words.  I went on to explain that getting killed is bad, but what really bothers me is that they can say anything about me once I am gone, to justify their actions, and I will never be able to defend myself.  While they assured me that if such a tragedy were to occur, they'd speak on behalf of my character, clearly they had missed the point.


When someone is killed in "self defense," it clearly implies that they were engaging in an activity that put another persons life in peril.  If it comes out that they weren't doing any such thing, but instead they were, I don't know, walking home with iced tea and skittles or reaching for identification, a rationalization for the death comes next.  Of all of the situations that I remember in the recent years (Byron Hammick, Kendra James, James Perez, Aaron Campbell), the rationalization hinged on people not living right, maybe being drug addicts or dealers or not doing as they are told.  It doesn't matter what family and friends say about the deceased, it all sounds like excuses.  Legality is brushed aside on some level, and the implication is that the world is a better place without this particular menace.


I think about this a lot, every time I think about Trayvon Martin.  And the worst thing that I have done is read comments left by completely anonymous posters on "news" sites, who without knowing this kid, say some really reckless and hurtful things in hopes of justifying his death.  I don't know him, and I never will, and I doubt he was perfect.  From what I have read he may have gotten into some trouble at school and been suspended, which (last time I checked) isn't an offense that is punishable by death.  I was suspended from school once, expelled actually, for something completely inexcusable.  Luckily the expulsion was the punishment.  Again, had someone killed me, it may have turned into the rationale for why my death was justified.  Kids do stupid things, and so do adults.  It doesn't give police or vigilante community members the right to kill people in cold blood.


I can't count the awful and ridiculous things that I have done in my life, and luckily I don't have to.  I have had the opportunity to move forward and learn from mistakes.  Some mistakes I have made repeatedly, others I have not.  Last time I checked, that is what life is comprised of.  My life has been affected by the mistakes of others as well, and I know that if I were to be shot and killed "in self defense," a laundry list would be strung out on fox news exampling how this black woman's parents have battled with subsance abuse, that I have a deadbeat dad, that I have student loan debt, that I have bounced a few checks in my lifetime and that I have had a couple of traffic violations.  I don't doubt that there would be a number of people, both former friends and plenty of family members, who would love to chime in about what a bitch I am.  And you know what? Its all true!  I have a filthy mouth and I eat too much, I roll my eyes and make judgements about people I don't know.  I listen to rap music that even offends my taste, and I love music videos that feature women who wear very little clothes.  I say words that would make my grandma slap my mouth, and I talk a big game about punching people. I went through a phase as a tween where I would steal anything I could get my hands on, and I barely graduated high school because I always skipped class.  I am both lovable and loathsome in one fell swoop, but I would never intentionally physically hurt someone.  But still I am afraid of the off chance that me simply being me will get me shot or killed, because of the assumptions that a person can make about me.


So in the event that I can' speak for myself because I am lying down in a pool of my own blood, I have a pre-emptive statement:  I didn't fucking do it.  If you find crack in the car, I promise it wasn't there before I died.  If there's a gun on my person, it wasn't there while I was breathing.  A store was robbed a mile away, I can't run that fast (as evidenced by my performance at the Shamrock Run).  Lots of cash in my purse?  Probably rent money.  I know to keep my hands where they can be seen in the even of being pulled over.  I never walk further than Walgreens for an iced tea (seriously, I'm hooked) in the dark. My blood alcohol level and toxicology reports won't be a surprise (hence the crack not being mine).  I don't have any warrants, and you aren't going to find any hits on my DNA.  So regardless of what blogs and Fox News could say say or imply. I'm not another statistic and there isn't  another person around who gets to decide whether the world is a better place without me.