I wanted to write something good this week. I spent most of the early part of this week staring at my computer aimlessly in search of inspiration. I was sad, pissed, confused, and admittedly left without a legitimate journalistic response.
Videos of police brutality and militarization reminiscent of the Deep South of the 1960’s, against a backdrop of photos of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, John Crawford III, and Ezell Ford‘s smiling faces sent me on a search for the right words, the right angle – something… good.
I wanted to write something poignant and helpful. I’m a journalist and a member of the Black press. I have to say something, right?
The most I could muster up were a few Facebook statuses.
Last night, I sat with my 14-year-old sister and talked to her about a host of things; Michael Brown, Robin Williams, racism, depression, and compassion just to name a few.
“Things could be so much better if we all cared for each other more,” she said. “We need to check in on each other. Even a smile could drastically change someone’s day.”
In between wiping more tears, I told her that she was right and to never, ever forget it. I’m a 25-year-old media professional and honestly, dealing with the sharp, ragged reality of adult life can in time scratch away at the innocence inside us all, that pure feeling that fans the flame of belief that ideas, dreams, and imagination can change the world.
Right now in Ferguson, MO citizens have taken the story into their own hands.
Of course there are news stories and some television coverage. However, the Federal Aviation Administration has declared the city of Ferguson a no fly zone. The order states that with the exception of medical and police planes, private aircrafts (including news helicopters) are prohibited. This is to reportedly “provide a safe environment for law enforcement activities.”
I would encourage you to watch the videos, and look at the pictures straight from the hands of those on the ground in Missouri. Whether right or wrong, collectively these images, sounds, and words paint a picture of unrest and non-compliance with the level of injustice they have been and are currently experiencing.
We are witnessing something here.
I am grateful to those who have been brave enough to share their stories with the rest of us. Prayerfully, their sharing is not in vain.