Tag Archives: Injustice

Just Thinking Aloud About Sandra Bland

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Photo Credit: Sandra Bland Via Google Images

“We know the road to freedom has always been stalked by death.” – Angela Davis

     Yesterday, Sandra Bland was laid to rest. Another Black body was laid to rest. Another Black body was murdered. Another Black body that leaves me full of questions that I want answers to. What happened? Why is it that Sandra Bland was in jail alive one minute, and the next minute she was dead?

So many heartbreaking questions fill my head.

Why can’t we just BE?

     The list of things that Black folks can’t do is getting longer, with every Black body laid to rest. This list sends a message that Black folks are supposed to bow down to white supremacy and stay in our so-called place, like we’re living in the days of the master oppressing the slave. Fuck that shit! Just walking down the street seems to send a signal of, “I’m a threat.” My, no, our, articulate, intelligent, and wonderful  selves are threatening to some folks. Our Black bodies just standing still are threatening to some folks. What it seems that we can’t do, is show our intelligence, our assertiveness, and our independence. And after Sandra Bland rightfully showed hers, she is no longer here. It makes me wonder how long will I be here? And who will be next?

So many heartbreaking questions fill my head.

Why did Sandra Bland have to die?

     I was born and raised in America (wait…Amerikkka), and I feel like I have no home. I never really feel at home. Never really feel at ease. Never really know when white supremacy will take my last breath, like it took Sandra Bland’s. And as her death is being investigated by those of “The Law”, I wonder how many of them wear a white sheet when they go home at the end of the day? It’s going to be a long road to freedom, justice, and equality.

     I don’t have time to have an ounce of fear, as there’s work to do. You better believe I will continue traveling down that long road towards freedom, justice, and equality. I don’t have time for doubt either. But I have plenty of time to have faith and hope. I have plenty of time to have strength and courage. I’ll need all four, as I do what I must in 0rder to survive. But I can’t stop at survival. I have to do what I must to be able to live FREELY. I am not an animal to be hunted. We are not animals to be killed for sport. I must do all that I can to make sure that it is understood that BLACK LIVES DO MATTER JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE’S. MY life matters. Sandra Bland’s life STILL matters. I owe Sandra Bland my all and my best.

     Sandra Bland may be physically gone, but her strength, courage, and shining light will certainly live on.

“I think the importance of doing activist work is precisely because it allows you to give back and to consider yourself not as a single individual who may have achieved whatever, but to be a part of an ongoing historical movement.”  – Angela Davis

I Can’t Help But Wonder. Will I Be The Next Victim?

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     Earlier today, I saw a blog post regarding the tragic, but all too familiar event of another victim murdered by the hands of racial injustice. Her name was Sandra Bland. I left a response to this blog post stating that it seems like Black men and women are being hunted and murdered, as if hunting and murdering people is a sport. I made a promise that I’ll do everything that I can to help bring about freedom, justice, and equality in this unjust world that we live in.

     As the list of Black bodies that didn’t matter gets a little longer each month (along with the growing list of activities that Black people apparently can not do), let us say a prayer for them all, and let us say a prayer for all of us. Now is the time to act. It’s been time. It’s always time. Now is the time to act, and bring about the change that we want to see. My name is Samara Marie Douglas, but I am Sandra Bland. Being Black in America proves to be complex, as well as dangerous. And as I sit here and write these words, I can’t help but to wonder will I be the next victim?

     I’ve been an elementary educator for 20 years now, and incorporating weekly classroom community meetings into my day has proven to be an effective practice for me to get kids started on the road towards fighting for freedom, justice, and equality. Our classroom community is a safe haven for my students to express their innermost thoughts. It’s a space for them to express what they don’t understand about our world. It’s a space for them to ask questions about what they don’t understand, and to get answers. Our classroom community meetings give my students a chance to be heard and to be listened to. Our meetings help students understand that their voices are powerful. The power in their voices can fuel a fire to fight inequality and other ills of society, even at their young age. It’s never too early to start a crusade for change.

     In our classroom community meetings, students have the opportunity to learn about the world in which we live, and to understand where they fit within our world. With this, comes knowledge of self and self confidence, which is needed to help them internalize that their lives do matter. Their words matter. This is their world too. During our meetings, students have the opportunity to brainstorm ways that they can make a difference in our world, starting now. It is my hope that my students remeber what they learn in our weekly meetings, and transfer these ideas out into the real world one day.

     My hope is for my students to be the next Freedom Fighters. We’ve been traveling on a long road towards our rights of freedom, justice, and equality. It seems to be an infinite road with an uncertain end point. All we can do is put in work to get there and have faith. Someone has to continue this fight when we can no longer. The fight for these 3 deserved rights must go on. The fight for freedom, justice, and equality must go on for Sandra Bland and all of the other Black lives that didn’t matter.

     I dedicate this post to my 5th graders who just graduated, and are now moving on to middle school. As I said at graduation, I’m very proud of all of you. I believe in all of you. I love you all. You were the best 5th graders ever. May you continue on your journey to be the best that you can be.

I Have No Love Song To Sing

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I have no love song to sing.
No sweet soliloquy to recite
Underneath the stars.
I’m sick with a disease that has no cure.
My heart barely beats,
As the confusion of what justice is
Proves to be a consistent strain.
I feel as if a single bullet aimed for my heart,
And pierced it multiple times.
A single body is housing multiple deaths and heartache.
As I drew my last breath,
I whispered a little prayer,
And ascended upon a higher path.
I have no love song to sing tonight.
Only a puddle full of tears and blood.

When Beautiful Black Turns To Blue

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My Feelings: When will you see me? See us? I can’t stop crying. No matter how righteous I live. No matter how educated I am. No matter how eloquent I speak. No matter how well dressed I am. I can go on and on about how well this, and how well that. Respectability means nothing, and I very well know it. Respectability will never save me from a bullet, and I know it. Nor will it ever shield me from the cruelty of white supremacy. No matter how much of a good human being I am, I’ll always be seen to some folk as an animal. A savage. A gang member. Uneducated. Sub human. A thing to be murdered, and tossed away like garbage, as if my life is worthless. When folk see the color of my skin, they don’t see me. They don’t see us. They see only what they’ve been taught to see and know. It’s America as I’ve grown to understand it. Sad. And I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting against a system that insists on fighting against me.

My heart weeps of sorrow,

In the darkest hour of the night.

Tears are shed inside,

Deep within my soul.

Yet, my tears can be seen and felt.

The weight of an unjust world

Has taken its toll.

It rests upon my shoulders,

And the load is much too heavy.

I’m tired,

As my weakened heart barely beats.

My heartache is too much to stand.

America has been killing me consistently.

A slow death it has been.

No knife to the heart.

No bullet to the dome.

Injustice will be my demise.

Won’t even have time to bid thee farewell.

Another black body blows in the dust.

It’s a sad song about us.

It’s about me.

It’s about you.

It’s what happens when black changes it’s hue.

It’s what happens when beautiful black turns to blue.