If you do not believe racism exists...
I have a dilemma. I'm thinking that you may be able to help me.
You have recently stated that racism is no longer a problem for African Americans. You so kindly reminded us that we've won the battle for civil rights. This is great news! I mean really, it's a relief.
The problem is, Reader, my little cousin (14) was on the phone weeping to me the other night.
My cousin has experienced a lot at a young age. Too much, honestly.
Once he was riding home with a group of friends, all of them white, and they were pulled over for no apparent reason. He was sitting in the passenger seat, and asked to step out to be searched while the rest of the boys he was with could wait inside the car and were asked no questions. Eventually, when the cop was finally done harassing him, he was able to return to the car and ride home in the awkward silence.
My cousin has been told by his crush that her dad would not let her date black guys.
My cousin has been accused of shoplifting because he had his hands in his pocket while walking around a convenience store.
My cousin has been told that he is ugly because his skin is too dark.
My cousin, who is brilliant, and the only black person in his science class, constantly has to look at the shocked expression of his chemistry teacher whenever he is as successful as or more successful than his white peers.
Even though my cousin has had these experiences, and many more, this is not why he was crying to me.
My cousin, who never cries, was crying for Eric Garner's family. He felt so bad for his mother and his wife and his children. He was so deeply saddened by the fact that a man could be killed by an illegal chokehold caught on tape without justice. He said that he couldn't even imagine how devasting it must be to lose a loved one to murder, and then to hear that that murder was okay.
He claims that this is why he cried, but I know better. Yes, of course he felt sorry for Eric Garner's family. But he was crying for his own. He was crying for his mother and his family. He was crying for me. He cried because he knew that the name "Eric Garner" could easily be switched out for his own. As could Tamir Rice's. As could Michael Brown's. As could John Crawford's. As could Trayvon Martin's. As could Oscar Grant's. And a slew of other names belonging to black men who have died without justice. He cried because he knew that these situations were not at all personal. These men did not die because they were bad people; these weren't thugs, or threats to society. These men died because their black skin causes society to view them as dangerous; as deadly; as violent. Racial profiling and prejudice had ended their lives, before they even had a chance to defend it. My cousin cried, Reader, because he knew that he wouldn't have had a chance either. And that his killer would probably walk free too. And that his family would suffer the same way Eric Garner's had. He wept for his family. For us, and for himself.
And near the end of the call, he kept asking me "why". "Why does this happen?" "Why can this happen?" "Why won't it stop?". I wasn't able to answer his question, and he went to bed believing that he was living in a racist society, and that he would have to learn how to survive in a country where the legal system does not value or defend his life.
But, there is hope! According to you, Reader, he should not feel that way because of all of the civil rights we've won.
And that is why I must ask a favor of you: tell my cousin why this happens. The real reason why, since it's not racism. He needs to know.
Thank you.
Sincerely
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