You Better Run, Boy
Is the year lost? Does it matter? Does anything even matter? I’m sure you’ve been involved in conversations with people asking these same questions lately. There are so many people describing 2020 as a year lost. Plans canceled, time shifting, events postponed. There are still many others seeing this is an opportunity to push through ideas and projects without having to ask permission or listen to objections.
My hope is that for everyone, this is a time to think about the systems in place that rely on racism, oppression, and white supremacy to keep us apart. I hope we all allow ourselves the space to let out some screams.
You may be thinking about a lost year, but for so many Black people in this country, the year doesn’t matter…we’re always thinking of lives lost. We are always aware of what lives don’t matter. Ours. The news of more Black lives lost has been weighing heavy on my heart and raging deep in my soul.
I wrote this to share those feelings. I wrote this for my son. My son who loves to run.
You Better Run, Boy
Blackness is your crime
Whiteness is the judge
The witnesses?
A list of traumas, pains, and sorrows
A list too long
Full of names that never got to see today
A few: Sean, Ahmaud, Sandra, Trayvon, Emmett
All bear witness
You better run, Boy
Outrun their fear
They need comfort
They must feel safe
Change this
Change that
Talk like this
Don’t talk like that
Change your approach
Don’t approach
Don’t move so fast
Why are you moving slow?
Be polite
Yes, sir
Don’t yell, don’t cry, don’t feel
Yes, ma’am
You better run, Boy
Just run
Run toward freedom
They say they want that
But our ancestors know the truth
Sometimes we hear their screams in our dreams
We march, we tweet, we yell those fears
We cry tears of generations past
We cry tears for what’s ahead
We cry tears to make it through today
How can we run towards freedom?
Run away from death or hate or supremacy?
Run away from fragility?
Run away from their fear of a loosening grip on power?
They say to trust them
Imagine having the privilege to trust it will be okay
They say we must listen
Imagine having confidence you will live to listen another day
Trust brings death
Confidence breeds fear
They say: you better do this
They say: you better not do that
But what can I do?
I will always be Black
They say: don’t play in the park
Don’t stand on sidewalks
Don’t claim the streets
Don’t take a knee
Don’t eat candy
Don’t walk
Don’t run
Do. Not. Breath.
Just be articulate
Be a class act
Change your approach
Change who you are
Do it like this
Do not do it like that
What’s this?
What’s that?
Does it even matter
Everything is a risk
Risk comes from threat
Is he a threat?
Are we a threat?
Is Black a threat?
In times like these we share humanity
Times haven’t changed, they never saw our humanity
Pandemics stop everything
Except Black death
Pandemics lay inequity to bare
Inequity was always in plain sight
Did you see it?
No? Then you looked away
The sheets, the whips, the noose from a tree
They are invisible
The sheets, the whips, the noose from a tree
They have changed
The sheets, the whips, the noose from a tree
We still see them
Did you see?
No? Then you looked away
So much remains the same
All lives matter
Except when Black
You better run, Boy
Outrun the shackles
Outrun the oppression
To my Black son
Run, my love, run
Run towards our ancestors’ hopes
Run towards our ancestors’ dreams
Run towards your excellence
Run towards your joy
I will keep in this fight
I will work to protect you
But know, they will never be done
Until they no longer see us run
