When Do We Breathe

Being Black in America should not be a death sentence.

Yet almost every day, America makes it clear that the lives of Black men and women are disposable. When I began writing this article, the latest publicized case of a Black life being lost to murder by white Americans was Ahmaud Arbery. Since then, media coverage has shifted from Ahmaud to Breonna Taylor, and now George Floyd who was coldly murdered by a Minneapolis officer and his 3 accomplices.

Almost 4 weeks since the video of Ahmaud Arbery’s death was published, we got the video of George Floyd. Floyd laid on the pavement as an officer pressed their knee against his neck until he stopped moving. The “crime” befitting such death? Forgery of a $20 bill.

The difference between how law enforcement treats Black bodies v. white bodies is striking. Dylan Roof, a white man and known mass shooter, was calmly escorted out of his home. In contrast, Jonathan Ferrell was shot and killed on sight as he sought help after a car crash. The reality of America is that Black people may lose their lives as they drive down a street, take a run, or sleep in their homes.

For a long time, I had been able to steer clear of images of Black deaths. Maybe its because there had been fewer media coverage or because of my privilege of living in my university bubble. However, the case of Ahmaud Arbery earlier this month jolted me back to reality. The instance captured on video occurred back in February but was published online in May by the Arbery family lawyer. This was an attempt to garner public attention as the investigation into the father and son duo who murdered Arbery was going nowhere.

My first exposure to Ahmaud was an Instagram story that shared the video of his last moments — shot in the chest by the son of a white man who worked in the local DAs office. There was no caption on the story and no warning, just a censorship message from Instagram about the video containing graphic content. The message did not mention that physical harm would be displayed or what kind of sensitive content would be shown. So, I watched the video in curiosity and it quickly turned horrific as I saw a young man struggling for his life before his execution. I could not and refused to share this video on my social media. On one hand, it would be an opportunity to raise awareness about a wrongful situation. On the other, I knew some of my followers, like myself, had become exhausted by the endless stream of Black deaths we were always exposed to.

Enough is enough

In 2019, the police killed 1,099 people. And of those people, Black Americans are killed at a rate 3 times higher than that of white Americans. Almost every time the media catches a whiff of new death, there is a national outrage. Videos and photos of the encounters circulate on the internet until another happens and attention is shifted. I cannot be the only one who seems to think that this approach is like screaming into a void. Every time, we yell and shout and ask for accountability and every time we get some media attention for a few days — until the next image goes viral. These returns do not match our outrage. Data shows that between 2013 and 2019, 99% of officers involved in the killing of a civilian have gone without any punishment or trial.

I first moved to the United States in 2009, moved back to Ghana, then I returned in 2012 to begin my high school education. In 2012, I received a rude awakening to the flip side of the American dream reserved for Black bodies. 2012 was the year the death of Trayvon Martin sparked national outrage at racial profiling. It brought attention to the blatant disregard for Black lives by those outside the community — cops and civilians alike. The acquittal of George Zimmerman birthed the Black Lives Matter movement. Black Americans had enough of feeling ignored and being put down. It was also was the first time I really understood the danger of my skin outside of my own personal insecurities.

A Black person is dangerous in America, not because of what we do, but what can be done to us.

Since the start of the movement, our phone and TV screens have been filled with images of Black deaths as a way to raise awareness. For a while, it was fueling outrage, we had allies now, and it seemed we could bring change.

8 years since the start of the movement, nothing has changed about the rate of deaths. What has changed is the increased complacency of the rest of America and the trauma of Black people.

I spend a lot of my time on Twitter, where I have seen many tweets from people who feel the same. The overconsumption of Black deaths is traumatizing. It seems like every week there is a new death to mourn. Another family without a son, a daughter, a mother, or a father. With each week, feelings of self-worth plunge. Knowing that you’re disposable — the feelings that come with it are indescribable. Footage of Black deaths reminds us of that every day. This daily reminder of our worth is suffocating. It is depressing and it leaves us angry yet numb.

Every time I see these images, I feel my chest cave in from the anger, the sadness, and the feeling of incapability. Why does this keep happening? What did my brothers and sisters do to deserve this? Why do my protests fall on deaf ears? What can I do? Where can we go to have our voices heard?

The sadness is intense. The anger even more so. The feelings of incompetence? Immeasurable.

Sadly, for every video circulated, there is likely another 10–100 deaths we will never know of. Thus, many try to steer away from these images. I spoke to two Black women to see how they feel about the visibility of Black deaths on social media and these are some of the responses I received.

Oluwadamilola Oshewa is a recent graduate from Johns Hopkins University and she said, “We shouldn’t have to have videos of Black people dying for us to value their lives…It’s wild that this what it takes…for the outside world…to feel outrage…It’s gotten to the point where I have blocked certain things [on twitter]…because it’s not good for my mental health.”

I also spoke to Gale Cecelia. Gale is a business consultant and the executive producer of Our Narratives, an empowerment podcast for Black women in business. She sighed with exasperation as she told me, “It seems as if…[America] does not believe our humanity as it exists and they don’t believe brutality against us until they see it…only once they see a Black body being brutalized and ultimately killed then do they want to uplift our humanity…” She then went on to discuss why she refuses to share images of Black deaths on any of her social media platforms saying, “I think it’s important for the videos to be shared with prosecutors…and it should be public knowledge that there is a video. But, I don’t think that we need to be able to replay that person’s trauma and create trauma for other people — and that person’s family — by allowing those videos to circulate…It’s become so ingrained in our culture for us to make people martyrs they never asked to be.”

The sharing of videos and images as seen in the George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery case do sometimes raise awareness and provide evidence of the cruel reality of America. The capturing of such images has also been especially important following the outcome of the Zimmerman trial which showed the need for evidence and eyewitnesses. We see that in the Ahmaud case most evidently as almost nothing was being done to the perpetrators until after the video went viral. Since then, several politicians and celebrities have echoed cries for accountability and even the FBI is investigating the case. Even so, the verdict has not been issued yet on the fate of the blood-stained father-son duo. The cynic in me sees them walking away with maybe a fine that continues to greenlight these acts of atrocities.

Calling for justice without burning out

There must be a way to protect innocent lives without sharing the gory details of their loss. I cannot imagine that 8 years after Trayvon and over 60 years after Emmet Till, we still have not found a way to make perpetrators accountable. 24 hours after the death of George Floyd, protestors clashed with officers near the Minneapolis Police 3rd Precinct. These protests first started on the intersection where Floyd was arrested. They then moved to the 3rd Precinct where demonstrators were tear-gassed and maced. CNN was told by a Minneapolis police spokesman that police officers only used tear gas when the crowd turned unruly. This reaction is a far cry from what was seen a few weeks ago when armed protestors took to the Michigan State Capitol.

So what can we do if not protest? Our white counterparts are allowed to exercise their first amendment without consequence. Meanwhile, Black people are deprived of the same rights. Ask yourself, how can protests against public health protections be valued over protests for the respect of Black lives?

Local and state governments must be forced to hold law enforcement responsible for lives irresponsibly lost. Police officers are paid using our tax dollars. Therefore they must exist solely for our protection, not our demise.

Call your state and local leaders. Ask them, how do you train your officers? What measures are in place to reduce civilian deaths? What is done when an officer kills a civilian without cause? Tell them that your vote is dependent on how they answer these questions. Tell them that until they value Black lives as much as they value their seat, they will also have to suffocate under intense scrutiny.

Funny enough, AOC sent out a tweet about this proposed call to action and now it’s even more unclear what it takes to protect Black lives.

I do urge you to exercise your right to vote on a federal, state, and county level. Put the people you want in office. People who will fight to uphold the humanity of Black people in America. Leaders who are unafraid of challenging the status quo. White America has hacked this system long enough, and now, it is our time to do so.

Tips for self-preservation

So you’ve been to the protests, you’ve called your leaders to hold them accountable, and you’ve voted. Now, how do you care for yourself? This is something I have had a hard time doing. But over the years and through conversations with others, here are four methods I have found to be helpful in healing.

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Disconnect

Take some time off social media when you begin to feel overwhelmed by the images circulating. Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook are the fastest ways these images get to most people. Hashtags often carry these images and the timeline can be full of different people discussing tragedies. It’s okay — and not at all selfish — to decide to shut your phone off sometimes to block out these images.

Know your boundaries

Protecting yourself from the trauma of Black deaths is okay and you can curate your online experience to do so. Twitter has settings that allow you to mute words or block certain images and you should take advantage of that. Dictate what your feed looks like and what you consume. Allow yourself to breathe sometimes.

Educate yourself

At the same time, do not be ignorant or complacent. Stay educated about what is going on by reading the news and looking into ways your state and local leadership have been handling this situation. Follow activists who refrain from sharing the images but continue to fight for the protection of Black lives.

Connect with family and friends

This is the time to appreciate those around you. You never know how long you have with your loved ones. Show the people around you that you care and appreciate them every day. Make sure to love them as they breathe and not when they cannot.

Check out this BLM Card which highlights the many ways you can help in support of the movement.

#BlackLivesMatter

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Previously published on medium

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