I Can’t Breathe

Imagine going to school and teachers telling your mom they are afraid of you.

Imagine being 13 and having cops draw their guns on you for sitting in the passenger seat of your mom’s car. Imagine bringing a cell phone to school and the principal accusing you of being a drug dealer. Imagine being 17 and stopped in front of your parents’ home for looking suspicious.

Imagine women clutching their purses when you walk in the elevator. Imagine being followed in most stores. Imagine being 18 and accused of stealing merchandise you just purchased, still holding the receipt in your hand.

Imagine going into court and a clerk assuming you’re there for a felony case, referring an officer to escort you away until they realize you’re only there to fight a traffic ticket.

Imagine being called arrogant and aggressive for being passionate about your work. Imagine having to regulate every word you say knowing any misconception is weaponized against you. Imagine “good intent” as a means to excuse others’ behaviors but never as a means to protect you.

Imagine having the same dog for 15 years and being accused of stealing him as you walk through your own neighborhood.

Imagine hearing neighbors discuss if their property values will go down because you bought the house next to them. Imagine reading on Nextdoor how every move you make is being monitored. Imagine having the police called on you in your own home.

Imagine always being asked if the car you’re driving was stolen, if there are drugs in your car, or if you have any outstanding warrants. Imagine not being asked for registration or insurance, knowing they only need your license to determine if you have any warrants. (Of course, you don’t, but the suspicion remains.)

Imagine watching men that look like you die knowing it can happen to you.

Imagine telling your family which pictures to use if you die, knowing it will be the photo that defines how the world sees you beyond your death.

Imagine being told your entire life by people who don’t look like you that all you had to do was smile, be well-groomed, have the right degrees, and work for the right companies, and you will be fine. Imagine them being wrong.

Imagine a knee at your throat for nine minutes. Imagine crying for help. Imagine not being heard. Imagine not breathing.

Imagine feeling helpless, scared, and alone as buildings burn and history repeats itself.

Imagine being afraid of yourself.

Imagine wanting to end your life, fearing — knowing — nothing will change. Imagine having hope regardless of your fears.

Imagine wondering how your allies might write this very same message from their POV.

“Imagine being free.”