Black People : From The Noose to the Bullet to ( I Can't Breathe)

Al D

We become that which we repeatedly do..
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Jun 24, 2015
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Early 1900's; Any-where in Any-town USA.

Where ya goi'n boy? Big Mo kept on walking because he just wasn't in the mood to be dealing with some redneck cracker on a hot and muggy afternoon. He had just finished putting in another long hard day’s work at the plant and the only thing on his mind right now, was getting home to his wife and kids, taking a shower and sitting down to have a nice home cooked meal. After that he would go out on the front porch, enjoy a nice cool drink, watch the kids play around for a while and celebrate with his wife before calling it another day. But before he could even entertain any of that, he had to deal with this irritating ignorant cracker...



Hey ni**er, you hear me talk'in to ya? I said where ya goi'n boy? Big Mo was in a hurry and making long strides, trying to put some distance between the two of them as he wanted to reach the bus before the confrontation he knew was imminent had caught up with him. He could see the bus pulling up to the stop but he was just not close enough to get on and avoid what was coming. D*mn, he thought to himself, out of all the days to possibly be late getting home for dinner, why would it have to be this day. You see this day was also a special occasion for Big Mo and his wife Mattie because they had been struggling and working extremely hard to save every penny that they possibly could and were soon to be the proud owners of a new home and this would be the night for them to celebrate.. It didn't matter that he still had to rely on public transportation to get around because ownership of a home is what he and his wife, Mattie had always dreamed of for them and their children. It would be a step up the ladder and also give them a sense of security but the most rewarding part of it all is that it would be theirs..There just weren’t that many Black folks during this period who owned their homes but they would be one of the few that did. Yes, this was indeed a momentous occasion and cause for celebration...But, first things first...



Big Mo came to an abrupt stop, whirled his huge frame of a body around and glared with a look of disdain and annoyance directly into the eyes of his insolent pursuer and said, what you want with me? I ain't doing nothing but trying to get home to my wife and kids. Unfortunately Big Mo wouldn't make it home this night. He had dared question a white man and did so in a manner that was considered challenging to the authority and superiority of this nobody cracker. A heated exchange between the two would ensue and it would draw the unwanted attention of other white folks. As fate would have it, things began to escalate and not to soon afterwards a mob of curious and angry white men would gather around and the instigator would accuse Big Mo of being an uppity ****** who needed to be taught a lesson. They would collapse around Big MO, beat him down and take him out to the woods to string him up and there his lifeless body dangled, hanging from a tree just like a piece of fruit on a branch.



Big Mo would not be celebrating with his wife tonight, he wouldn't be sitting down to enjoy his dinner with his family, he wouldn’t be sitting out on the porch sipping a cool drink while his children played nor would Big Mo and his family ever have the experience of owning their own home.


He would never live to breathe a breath of air another day in Any-town USA. All because of the ignorance and racist vile that has permeated the air throughout American society and has profusely stained it's soil with the innocent blood of ( far too many to count ) black men and women in this country. This is a short story that is all too reminiscent of what it is like to be a dark-skinned person living in a white dominated society. This short story is a prelude to the longest story that has been played out time and time again in this white dominated world in one way or another.

Let's just fast forward 100 years plus and here we are where we find ourselves still experiencing the same racist vitriol. The perpetrators today are in the uniforms of Law enforcement throughout this so-called land of the free and the brave and justice for all (only pink skinned folks). Whether it is walking, driving, jogging, shopping or playing in a department store or park with a play gun, having the dark skin is an open invitation these days for harassment, police abuse and possible death. Just the mere suspicion of guilt by law enforcement or any white citizen today, ( just as it was back then ) seems to cause enough suspicion to justify the murder of many an unarmed dark skinned woman or man....It appears that we most definitely have gone from the noose to the bullet and we can't seem to shake it....We can pray for all those innocent Black lives who have left this planet so abruptly at the hands of racist maniacal psychotic people and pray for their families, but praying and marching and protesting just isn’t enough. We must feel a compelling duty to eradicate our society of this vicious and insensitivity to human life on both sides of the paradigm...The question is; Are we capable of honestly taking a deep look within ourselves and inquire who we really are as a dark-skinned people and what is it that needs to be done to eradicate our society and world from the grips of a sinister indifference to the lives of dark skinned people all over the world. Folks can pray to the most high for strength and courage but eventually it comes down action and to the will of the people regarding what we are willing to do in order to achieve an equitable and sustainable change.

So the question is; what are dark skinned people ready and willing to sacrifice in order to accomplish this goal because anything substantially meaningful definitely comes at a cost!! The cost has been paid many times before from the period of slavery and the (underground-railroad and abolitionists) to the forties, fifties and sixties (civil rights and voting rights groups and integration proponents) and the seventies (black power and black nationalists groups) and now ( Black Lives Matter) and the supporters.

Radical Change requires Radical Action

We are all Big Mo's, Mattie's, and their family and some of us just might never make it back home.

Written by; Alton DeVeaux Jr. Africafifth (5th Generation African)

For your Perusal
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