I started with ambivalence.
I am resentful, angry, disappointed, ashamed, frightened — I could go on for paragraphs, but just think of it as a huge dirty rainbow of negative emotion — to be swept up in a wide net merely because of my color.
I have no doubt you know more about that, have felt that more often, than I can stretch my imagination to contemplate.
Too, for all my negative emotion, I am not, unlike Philando Castile, undeservedly dead.
What came to mind then was that guy. Not a boyfriend-guy, but a thought-he-might-be-a friend guy. That guy who inflicted a terrible abuse on me oh so many years ago. That guy who then doubled down and publicly hounded me, as if what he had done and continued to do was a perfectly appropriate response to my very existence.
When he died by his own hand, I rejoiced. I would never have killed him myself, but I freely admit that had I been there, I would not have stood in his way. Our mutual acquaintances were horrified at my unrelenting glee that he would plague me no more, but I refused to repent. I lost friendships, but what kind of friends stand silent in the face of what I endured at his hands?
Not such a loss, after all.
And I am still glad he is dead.
Today I saw the video of that loud, lunatic white woman demanding a white doctor for her child. My first thought was that she is a fool — I have never had good luck with white doctors — but after I got over my personal experience reaction, it occurred to me that she is not an isolated crazy white person.
She is a trend. An ugly and terrifying trend.
In light of that, Let Them Fucking Die becomes less an aggressive posture than an essential self-defense. None of us are required, as you later wrote, to offer our hand to someone who is waiting to chop it off with an ax.
More, I think we all have a responsibility to not extend ourselves to those whose lifelong habit is to lie in wait with ax in hand. Even if they are in desperate need. And even if our own hands are safe from their harm.