You see all the craziness on the TV. The injustice that goes on in the land of the free. I know that all of it affects me, but I try not to watch the news or read the blogs. I cringe at movies when I see a gun or someone get punched. My heart and my stomach has a low tolerance for pain.
I can’t sit still, listening to the moments that took place right before some innocent lost their life. Watching the protests, then watching protesters lose their life in response. I can’t stand with my fist up because I have a weak stomach and a low tolerance for pain. I cannot stay sane when in the back of my mind, I’m constantly thinking, will I be next today?
They started the trend #BlackLivesMatter. And I wonder if people truly believe that because everyday people are being killed. But not just black lives. So they started #AllLivesMatter. And I shake my head because to some, this statement is false.
Then I see the start of #MuslimLivesMatter and tears start to pool in my eyes because it finally resonates that no matter what happens in this country, I will be affected. I could easily be Treyvon Martin, Michael Brown, or Eric Garner.
Then Razan Abu-Salha, Yusor Abu-Salha, and Deah Barakat were murdered in their own home. It makes me take a pause as an African American, hijab wearing Muslim woman. In both instances… it instills fear in me two fold.
I’m beginning to learn that the home of the free and the land of the brave really means the land of the free to do whatever the hell you want and the home of those who are brave enough to do it because they are free.
I thought the stereotype was black while driving and Muslim while flying. The message is simple now: black and Muslim while dying.
Thank you for making it hard to live my life comfortably.