Dangerous Compassions

racism is real

I have a young activist friend I love.  On facebook today I saw his post he was beaten and arrested by a cop–he said it was for obstruction and that he didn’t do anything wrong or fight back.  His parents bailed him out.  He showed photos of his wounds.

I feel sad.  This friend is sensitive and brilliant.  He has a radio show.  He learns languages and draws pictures.  He pontificates on anarchy and current events and identity politics.  I wonder how this will change him.

I know it’s racist.  My friend is half-Black.  When white friends are arrested, I see how they’re treated, and when Black friends are arrested, I see how they’re treated.

I feel sorry my country failed my friend.  I feel sorry about racism and slavery and history.  I feel sorry about police behavior and what they get away with.  I’m busy with peace work and radical mental health and zines and poetry.  But I feel sorry I haven’t done enough against racism.

He was just here–he cooked vegan tortilla soup for the Sacred Peace Walkers on Sunday.  I brought him ingredients in Freedom House and watched him squeeze a lime over the pot.  I remember thinking how creative he is and how a brilliant person can be smart about many things and make good soup.

I think he might try to sue or find some kind of justice.  I want to contribute money, but that feels lazy.  I know police hurt people of color all the time.  I feel stupid that I feel more when it’s my friend.  But I guess that’s human.

Not sure what to do.  But this is a blog post about it. 

If you knew him, you might cry.  He’s a miracle.  Not deserving the slightest disrespect, let alone to be beaten then caged.  My prayers are with him, but I don’t want to pray only.  Let me know if you have any ideas.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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