"Black on Parole"

?uestlove of the Legendary Roots Crew recently shared How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America: A Remembrance by Kiese Layman, a professor at Vassar College, via Twitter. His recount of life-altering encounters with guns and racism in Mississippi filled a void created by the present-day media's coverage of celebrities and other fluff.  Inspiration comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors.  After digesting Layman's entry in his blog, Cold Drank, I reflected on his words...

When I was 16, I lost the cousin I idolized to senseless gun violence.  During Thanksgiving break of his senior year in college, a bullet claimed the life of Richard Bernhardt.  Although I was too heartbroken to attend his funeral service, I vowed that he (along with a host of other deceased family members) would continue to live through me.

After undergoing such turmoil, I didn't quite know which way was up and I've lived a pretty "normal" life in comparison to some people I know.  Around the same time, I managed to pass my driver ed course and was excited about obtaining my driver license on my 17th birthday. In preparation of the most important test of my adolescence, my parents would take me on drives through rural New Jersey. Along with lessons about how to best navigate a K-turn came lengthy monologues that some of my friends never received. I would learn from my father and other family members how to behave when pulled over, to never drive with more than two people in the car, to not wear hats while driving, and many other heuristics. Unfortunately, these lessons proved to be valuable.   There was a time when I was in Manayunk, a section of Philadelphia, and my car was closed in by two police cars late one night. When the officer approached my car, he had his hand on his gun and asked me why I rolled through a stop sign. With my hands in full view gripping the steering wheel, I told him that I came to a complete stop. Then, he asked for my license and registration. Prior to retrieving the documents, I asked him if it was okay to take my hands off the steering wheel and reach in the glove compartment. He gave his consent and I handed him the paperwork and then grasped the wheel again.  He went back to his patrol car and checked my information for over an hour and then let me go without a word.   On this very night, I was guilty of being "black on parole" and based on conversations with some friends, they have been guilty until proven innocent too.

I am the offspring of two nurturing and caring parents who worked hard to provide a better life for their children.   My parents believed that an education would provide opportunities for personal and professional growth.  And they were correct.   As caretakers, they instinctively sought to protect us from the dangers of world through various lessons.  And while I think it's useful to be prepared for the unknown, we also need to remember another lesson from our ancestors: the power of a community united.  Instead of waiting for the Emmit Till, Trayvon Martin, or Sean Bell of tomorrow, we need to demonstrate against these atrocities today.  

I'd like to leave you with an excerpt from Iesha Jaco on Lupe Fiasco's "Baba Says Cool For Thought."  

They thought it was cool to burn crosses in your front lawn 

As they hung you from trees in your backyard 

They thought it was cool to leave you thirsty and stranded, Katrina!!

He thought it was cool to carry a gun in his classroom and open fire, Virginia Tech, Columbine, Stop the violence!!

They thought it was cool to tear down the projects and put up million dollar condos, Gentrification!! 

They think it's cool to stand on the block hiding products in their socks making quick dime bag dollars.

They think its cool to ride down on you in blue and white unmarked cars bustin' you upside yo head.

Freeze 'cause the problem is we think it's cool too.

Check your ingredients before you overdose on the cool!!

The Score 

Lupe Fiasco - Baba Says Cool For Thought 

 

Jay-Z and Kanye West - Murder to Excellence