You Better Run, Boy

tamika l. butler
3 min readMay 7, 2020

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

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tamika l. butler

tamika is a land use, equity, & social and racial justice advocate. She's an Urban Planning PhD student at UCLA & the Principal at tamika l. butler consulting