Michael Brown…

My news feed is full of rants, about black pride, and black unity, about equality and raging against the oppression of generations. And the way it is presented it seems like that is what this really is all about. Yes there seems to be a trend, with overzealous law men, stereotyping and a failing of the mechanisms of justice, but when we really boil it down, it’s the same centuries old racial struggle. Correct me please if I am wrong.

And while I admit, it seems to be a bad era in American History, something I think Dr King would make an epic speech about if he were still with us. It is something I find myself lacking a certain amount of passion about it.

I guess in a way I’ve been sheltered from racism. I live in a country with a predominantly black populace, with a predominantly black government. Here blacks count as the majority of the one percent so I find it strange to fit my mind into being a minority anywhere.

Indeed most of the whites I have met have been tourists, and while we may come upon the odd one or two, who seek out the dark and dirty in our society, or the one or two who try to look down at the natives, by en large the most of the tourists we come across are just people on vacation, from the hum drum of their lives, trying to get directions to one of the awesome features that I take for granted.

Academically I understand the whole civil rights movement and the struggle of a race to uplift itself from the peasant class to a more sustainable position in a society, indeed we have had our own freedom fighters, slaves and revolutionaries, pioneers that saw a bright new future free of colonial rule, but even then the colonists seemed to just sort of meander back to their homelands, without much fuss. Well at least in the case of my little paradise, there was no great revolutionary war.

The idea of racism so forceful, that a race, and entire block of a population should feel fear and alienation, even against the system established to protect them, just seems so alien to me. That I can’t seem to process it with any truly authentic emotion, no rage, no hate, no tears just an calm and enduring pity.

Indeed, it seems again there is a new dimension on what it means to be black, depending on age and geography.

I’m just sorry that in this day and age, families are still losing, mothers and fathers loosing sons, sisters loosing brothers, generations of children, never born, because in 2014, there are still people being martyred, in the name of race, for the right to be seen as equals.

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