A Month in Memoriam: Day 19
On my way back from Baltimore, Akai’s cousin texted me.
I’m not sure if you’ve heard but there will be a nationwide rally (40 states) tomorrow for “Justice for Peter Liang”. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.
I pulled over. The bigotry within this country is mind-boggling. When I posted the cover of The New York Daily News picturing Liang eyes closed, with his face in his hands beneath the word GUILTY in all caps, the comments came alive.
“Of course they would’ve convicted him. He’s Asian not white smh…”
“he is a scapegoat wake up”
“It’s cuz he isn’t white.”
“When is a WHITE COP gonna get a prison sentence.”
We need to focus on the blue. BLUE.
Peter Liang is the first NYPD officer to get convicted since 2005 Bryan Conroy, an undercover officer shot and killed Ousmane Zongo, an unarmed African immigrant during a warehouse raid.
Sean’s killers are free. Eric’s killers are free. Sandra’s killers are free.
Officers of all races kill — they are blue.
Later that night, I went to see Wall Writers, a documentary about graffiti in its innocence. The writers, as they call themselves (not taggers) hailed from New York and Philly. Black, Latino and even a few Greek taggers shared their stories — legends really — of the true beginnings of what is now a billion dollar industry.
A Q&A with over 10 of the OGs followed. I stepped up to the mic.
“I ask this question because you all have not only seen a lot but more importantly, you’ve survived — how do you feel about the blatant killing of black and brown people by police?”
There was an audible utterance of discomfort.
Henry 161 stepped forward.
“I did 15 years in the pen, been out for 10. I’ve lived this life. I’m out on the streets everyday talking to and mentoring kids. I’m not going to get into poverty but the cops — they don’t care.”
Another OG from New York stepped forward.
“This isn’t anything new. The cops used to run up on us, take us into alleys, beat us up, leave us there and shoot us. It might go away for a little bit but it’s always been happening. And now, they’re back and stronger than ever.”
The moderator tried to move onto another question.
“I have something to say,” said another. “I’m not going to lie — my mother was an alcoholic so she would drink and fall down the steps sometimes. I would call the cops for help and when they’d come, I’d tag their cars. I mean, anything to get my name out there, so I kept calling them.”
The whole audience laughed. The comedic relief was needed. I took my seat.
I stood in awe of the living history that surrounded me. These brothers’ creativity kept them alive. They themselves said they were poor, had nothing better to do so they got off their stoops and tagged their names so that others would know that they existed. They were labeled as “vandals”, “vagrants” and “criminals”.
They survived.
And they thrived.
