I looked at the face of Lucia McBath, #JordanDavis's, mother and I
see the legacy of pain. Etched deep in her face is the pain born of mourning
her child and countless other children from generations before her and from
generations to come. I look at her face and I see a resolve to find a way to
"carry" on while "carrying" on the burden, the fatigue of
this war we endure on a day-to-day basis.
Make no mistake in deed we are at war.
This is a war where some of us fight to be recognized as human. This is a war
where the opponent demands us to be kind and loving in the face of the
racist/sexist/classist drones they drop on us on a daily basis. This is a war
waged by racist zealots and “liberals” alike who tell us either to stop talking
about race or that racism is not so bad as it was in the past—after all we are
making progress.
I look at Ms. McBath’s face and I see the faces of countless
women merged together in the wrinkles and lines of racism, the scars caused by
sexism. Hers is the face of African women stolen from the shores of Africa.
Hers is the face of the enslaved Black woman who watches as her child is sold
in front of her face. Hers is the face of the Black woman who is brutally raped
but must listen to the master preach from the “holy book”. Hers is a face of
the college student who sits as the professor ask her to explain what’s its
like to be on welfare. Hers is the face of that Black woman who is passed over
for a promotion not because she lacks the necessary credentials but because she
is simultaneously Black and a woman. Hers is a face of mothers who bury their
children; children who die as a result of racism, sexism, classism and homophobia. The bullets have been piercing our hearts for generations.
The “masters” of oppression etch these women on her face. I am talking not
simply of the oppression that comes from race or gender alone. It is the
oppression that results from being both at the same time. The colors bleed into each other and become recognizable only to those who choose to look at her--to look at her with honesty, dignity and respect. Some refuse to see these scars, because to see them means that we must recognize our complicity in scarring this woman. Some refuse to see her because the festering wounds call for attention and they don't know what to do so they choose to do nothing.
I look in Ms. McBath’s
face and I see my life and the future life of my child and her child and
generations to come. We are part of the tribe that must endure this pain while
we continually fight against it. Ms. McBath, your pain is now carved into my
face. I am marked as a member of your tribe. I understand your language. We
will see each other and humbly, even if secretly, salute each other.
But at some point the lines around our mouths will cry out and
resist. The lashes imparted will only be imparted on the scabs and we will turn
around. WE WILL TURN AROUND and that history that has been marked on our faces
will give us victory. The victory to be seen as human.
