In honor of Day of Dead i want remember a saint in mah life- a pillar of strength in mah youth- someone who’s spirit and laughter reminded me that joy can be found in the most dim of places and that our imaginations can create wings strong enough to fly. Rest in Power, brother.
What is the life of a young Black boy lost worth to the society? What is the social price of the Negro lived experience? How are we remembered?
The specter of the prison system and society ambivalence to my plight as a Black male has always followed me. I grew up watching my grandfather battle white gentrifiers over everything on our, formerly all Black, street. I grew up fatherless because he had 22 years of his life stolen from him by the State via the prison industrial complex. My cousin, as brown and as bold as he was, found himself facing the inside of a cell for fighting a police officer that spit on his face. These three men and their experiences with the White power structure of the State shaped my understanding and fear. We are demonized and oppressed on various levels.
Recently, a childhood friend of mine was…
View original post 400 more words