This past Sunday night, a thunderstorm blew through Wuxi that awoken and terrified me in the middle of the night. It was 5 am and the rain battered my windows as thunder clapped so loud it sounded as if the dark sky was being broken in half.
I am not generally afraid of lightning or thunderstorms (in fact I usually enjoy them), but my heart shook with a bit of fear as the winds beat upon my house so violently like an angry, abandoned, vengeful lover that I thought it would soon burst through and violate my space with its gusting rage and salty sky tears. At one point, in my sleepy fogginess, I heavily considered the possibility that it might be a hurricane.
I wrapped myself in my quilt, rolled myself into a cocoon and hurriedly drop-rolled onto the floor and under the bed where I stayed for a minute or two before I realized the windows would not break and my room would not be flooded.
The next morning, tree branches and leaves were scattered all through the campus and large muddy puddles speckled the ground. Small trees were bent in half, some broken in half or large portions of it whipped away. I felt disoriented, hazy, unable to focus the whole day no matter what I did. I felt depressed .I do not consider myself a superstitious person but there have been times in my life where I have felt a stirring of disturbance deep within my conscience and a premonition of something awry and it has never steered me wrong.
Something bad was going to happen.
Monday, the verdict was revealed for the Mike Brown case. As the days led up to the verdict I knew with the questionable evidence and shaky testimony that most likely there would be no indictment and that the officer that shot Brown would likely walk free. I talked myself into the fact that this was justice, that it was as the system should work, There was simply not enough evidence to indict. And I still believe that that might be the case despite a bad prosecution and the uncertainty of the events that occurred behind the scenes.
Brown wasn't necessarily the ideal martyr to expose the corruption in the justice system in my mind but at the same time I didn't feel he deserved to die and his body left out for hours before being removed from the scene. What Brown became, however, was a catalyst for pent-up aggression and anger over the unheard frustrations of decades of police violence, brutality, harm and judicial injustic that black communities often experience. I recall my own experiences when I was searched illegally and cursed at and badgered by a police officer a few years ago....for trying to swerve out of the way of a PennDot truck that almost hit me merging onto the highway. I had cut the officer off trying avoid the truck who merged without seeing me and the officer honked aggressively at me. He then pulled along side of me so I could see him, screamed obscenities, flipped me the bird and then flipped his lights on and pulled me over. I explained what happened and as I did he illegally searched my car (myself being so stunned by his behavior and my near-death experience with the truck was unable to think clearly about stopping it)all while asking me repetitively if I had anything valuable in my car as he prepared to tow my car (I was on my way to renew my license and had explained that to him, being 1 exit away from the DMV center to do so but since my license wasn't technically valid he would not let me drive). I answered multiple times just my laptop and he kept searching through compartments and my trunk. He had no reason to be suspicious of me but he was and nonetheless questioned me, towed my car off the highway and then dropped me off at a gas station instead of the DMV that was only a couple of miles further so that I could renew my license. He didn't wait to see if a friend would even pick me up before he drove off and left me abandoned there.
The officer looked very much like Officer Wilson. A white, blond male in his mid-20's. Badge, gun, power.
My parents have been harassed by cops and pulled over.
My brothers have been harassed by cops just walking around the neighborhood where we live in broad daylight.
And we live in a suburb with little crime.
For the record, I do not hate cops. Quite the opposite, I have always admired them. I encouraged my boyfriend, who is a blond-haired, blue-eyed white male, to go be a cop when he wanted to pursue that endeavor. His brother is going into the police academy. Some of my absolute favorite customers when I worked at Starbucks for 4 years were police officers who I always gave free drinks to despite it technically being against company policy and whom I was always excited to converse with.
But people who say race doesn't matter don't understand how the rest of the world truly works. Simply wishing something out of existence doesn't make it go away. People are naturally flawed and centuries old ideologies and stereotypes are hard to shake overnight. Ignorance will exist so long as people are unwilling to communicate and understand the consequences of history and there were plenty taking that stance of ignorance when what happened Monday night occurred. To provide any real change, we need confrontation and we start by confronting those that are spreading hateful ideologies. That takes action that may not necessarily be pleasant. but it is necessary. And I'm not talking about looting and rioting. I mean having candid discussions with other races, protests, demands for change, calls to action and holding those accountable who do abuse their power. These are the only ways to stop these tragedies from occurring. At the same time, while I don't condone the violence that ensued afterwards, I do understand people not having a place to vent and siphon the rage over not being heard and not being able to have those demands met historically for approximately 400 years. At the same time, the media didn't show it but there were plenty of protests in major urban cities and neighborhoods where no looting occurred at all and people peacefully gathered and demanded changes. Unfortunately, peaceful protests don't sell papers (ie the democratic peaceful protests still going on in Hong Kong kept the interest of American media for perhaps 2 days at most). So the media has drowned out an important message because fires ablaze and angry blacks running amuck make for better, more interesting reads.
My experience here being black in a foreign country has surprisingly been mostly a non-issue. I researched racial slurs and braced myself for angry slurs and stereotypes when I arrived here because I had read some stories where blacks were not taken seriously as teachers or figures of authority based on racial perceptions in Asia (ironically the same ideas that have been spread by Western media).When the Chinese ask me about my experiences as an American, they ask me about it as an American. They don't ask me about my experiences as a "black American" and although sometimes I get occasional questions about stereotypes (ironically again ones perpetrated through American media) it is from a place of to understand something they really don't know about having come from a homogeneous society and access to this information only through media. I am not saying China is better than America or that China is perfect. It is a communist country riddled with oppression of the poor, sanitary/environmental issues, mistreatment and lack of regard for women and has a government willing to take away civil liberties deemed a threat in the blink of an eye.
But it is trying to catch up with the rest of the world having been isolated for so long. In it, I have found surprising comforts where there are glimmers of kindness, generosity, concern, understanding, curiosity, eagerness to help, and a sense of community and togetherness that I respect.
In China, they say the individual doesn't matter. That who you are depends on the types of people you surround yourself with. In America, we focus on standing out, being an individual and helping ourselves more than the collective. Both have their pros and cons, but there is something to be learned from the other. Perhaps, if we had more compassion for each other in our own culture we would have a little less suffering of humanity and those who struggle behind. At the same time, sometimes standing out and standing up for something, not being apart of the crowd can have it's advantages.
The Brown incident has helped me realize the types of people I've surrounded myself with may not necessarily be the best types of people. I have been a strong, vocal advocate of gay rights, women rights and pro-military. But those same people I stood by and advocated for many of whom I consider my dearest, closest friends have been deafeningly silent on being an advocate for me and causes that affect me. I cannot say this doesn't hurt but I also sadly cannot say I didn't expect it.
To some, Mike Brown is simply a criminal who stole cigarettes, assaulted a cop and deservedly got shot. And perhaps, Wilson was in the right given the evidence.
But the message isn't simply about a criminal kid who got shot deservedly. After all, Wilson was not actively pursuing Brown as a suspect for a crime when he pulled along the road and demanded they walk on the sidewalk. The racial message is missed because it is not overt. It's about a culture that naturally fears African-Americans and the fear is so ingrained and innate in our culture we cannot realize when encounter it and cannot bear to face it. For every Mike Brown, there have been a number of innocent blacks who, just based on perception, have gotten killed, harassed, or beaten for simply doing nothing at all but being at the wrong place and time. Brown's case reverberated around multiple themes that occur daily in these communities. Perceived fears by the majority of minorities and justice and fairness denied in legal systems. It has been about over a year of repeated shootings of blacks and exoneration of their killers. It's been a year of racial profiling through stop-and-frisks. Of kids grabbing skittles or listening to loud music but being killed for because they were considered a threat based on the way they looked. It's a build-up of anger and frustration over a justice system that has given stricter punishments to blacks for crimes that their white criminal counterparts escape completely with little to no judgement.
People say all lives matter. That's true. But the reality is that some people's lives end up mattering less than others and no one wants to acknowledge that ugly truth.
Just two generations ago, my grandparents were denied the right to education and access to better jobs. Can you overcome being in the hood as a black person? Absolutely. But what people don't get is you start at a disadvantage further back than most. If you're surrounded and raised by parents who were not exposed to having opportunities for education and job choices, they aren't going to be able to help guide future generations in achieving something they themselves never experienced or were given the opportunity for in their youth. They also aren't going to be able to explain it's importance or benefits because they seemingly survived without these things and don't know how to navigate them. Some kids realize this and work hard and overcome, but most don't because you can't be what you can't see and you can't do what you don't know. Poor neighborhoods lead to poor education because of poor schools which are poorly funded by poor people who can barely pay taxes to maintain them and are generally denied jobs because they couldn't afford an education. Add slavery, segregation, racial discrimination and fast forward these problems for two generations, you can see there is a cycle that does have some effect on the reason that blacks continue to struggle.
My father tackled this thought. "The fact remains that we have to start. We can't be caught powerless or those who don't want us around will be successful. Not everyone is going to be a lawyer or investment banker or teacher, but everyone can do something."
And there is a sense of collective unity in challenging these problems that seems to be making headway now as social media and technology revolutionizes sociological problems rapidly (women's rights, gay rights, rape culture).
But too many people focused on a single case instead of what the outcomes of the case meant: that is not even having a chance to be heard at all.
I saw reporter Lisa Ling vent her frustration on social media like so many focusing on the destruction instead of the message:
"Michael Brown's family called for peaceful protests. Those rioting are hurting are themselves--their community is going up in flames. How does that help them? It's all so sad. My heart breaks for Michael Brown's family, and the whole community of Ferguson."
But it was Sharonda Huff, a facebook poster, who answered eloquently what the real message in the bottle gliding on a turbulent sea was about. She echoed and broke down the frustrations and sentiments felt collectively by African-Americans:
"I don't really think it's really about Michael Brown at all. I think it's about our collective experiences as blacks in America. It's about our repeated experiences of injustice. It's about the grade teacher who treats you like you are nothing when you're 7 years old, and you don't know why. It's about getting handcuffed, frisked, and put in the back of a police car while your 9 month old screams in his car seat, because you have ran a yellow light. It's about being blocked for 4 miles on the freeway by a guy on a motorcycle with a confederate flag on the back of his jacket. It's about the automatic suspicion when you walk into a store. It's having someone be so afraid of you, when they don't know you at all. It's hearing that Michael Brown's body was left in the street, uncovered for hours. It eats at you. It is a daily struggle to not let it ruin you.
I have friends of all colors. And at the moment, I lean on them, knowing that all others aren't all bad. But I am struggling to keep down this visceral reaction. This visceral fear for my young black son's life makes me feel inwardly militant. There is a war happening inside of me. Love VS Hate. Your truth VS My experiences. Racism makes me sad. The looting makes me sad. The violence makes me sad. So, no, it is not about Michael Brown. It's about facing a world that is so brutal, and you not having the ability to do a damn thing about it. I wont let it ruin me though. I won't give into hate. I will continue to love all people. I stand with Michael Brown's parents. Please be civil. Please be peaceful. And PLEASE, let us get body cameras for the police. #Ferguson I lift you in prayer. #BlackLivesMatter#WeALLHaveAStory"
Sometimes, it's actually not about the journey. It's about the destination.
