The recent deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Tony McDade have inspired a wave of national and international protests against police violence.
As protestors took to the streets to make their voices heard, I wondered how Black women express their fears and concerns around police through their signs. Posing questions instead of making statements, Black women protestors invite us into their world and challenge us to reflect on how police violence shapes their lives.
My own research on police violence against Black women and girls demonstrates how our experiences with police are often ignored and pushed to the margins. Not wanting to leave their questions unanswered, I wrote poems to say: “I see you in the crowds and I stand with you in seeking answers to questions that no one should ever have to ask.”
am i next?
if i am, will i count
will they remember me
when they write speeches
about what they did to us
or will i be violated and forgotten
bruised and buried
along with all the other
inconvenient truths
will someone remember i was here
that i stood next to them
fighting for him and bleeding for us
when it’s my turn
can someone please check my pockets
and scribble down what i was called
on any throwaway scrap you can find
just so i can dream a little
that someone may remember
to pencil in my name
next to those that mattered
how many more?
one or one thousand
before you paused
two or two thousand
before you watched
three or three thousand
before you questioned
four or four thousand
before you listened
five or five thousand
before you cared
six or six thousand
before you spoke out on it
seven or seven thousand
before you walked with us
eight or eight thousand
before you understood
what we were really marching for
nine or nine thousand
before you realized
you weren’t free either
how many tens of thousands of us had to die
before you woke up
is my son next?
dear momma,
i hope not
i dream of a world
where your son can breathe
where he can be free from fear
free from police violence
where he can survive and thrive
and grow old enough
to pass along his wisdom
i hold sacred space for him
alongside my children
and, may i kindly ask
for you and other dear mommas
to hold sacred space for my daughters
to dream of a world
where my girls can breathe
and their bodies and souls
be free from police violence
where they can speak freely
and survive and thrive
and grow old enough
to pass along their wisdom
