the day after

the day after an injustice you wake up and wonder if it was a dream.  you search your memory to recall the events from the day before.  you remember the news reports, the twitter feed, the facebook posts.  they all remind you of the verdict: not guilty. the day after an injustice you feel restless.  rally? prayer vigil? scream? no solution to mend a weary soul comes to mind.  the day after an injustice you go to church and wait for the pastor to deliver a message that will make sense of hundreds of years of oppression and violence, but it doesn’t come.  you walk around the city aimlessly, looking for something, anything to help numb the pain.  the day after an injustice you think about your grandparents and ancestors who experienced injustice with no retribution their entire lives.  you think about all the stories they told you about segregated schools, lynchings, white mobs and backbreaking labor and know that nothing has changed.  the day after an injustice you turn to your mentors, james and grace lee boggs, dorothy roberts and bell hooks to help explain this world.  the day after an injustice you feel the blow to your will to fight, but arrive at a renewed spirit to continue the struggle in the name of those who fought before you.  the day after an injustice you re-dedicate your life to ending inequity because that is the only reason you were born.

rest peacefully dearest trayvon.  we will always remember.