A Black Autistic Man Reflects on the Murder of George Floyd

About six days ago at the time of this writing, I tweeted this.

Tweet from Emmanuel, a Black man, with the handle @TheBlueMaverick: Iran, China, Russia won't kill me on the street, but United States will easily do it without a second thought.

And when I wrote it, what I meant was that if I’m going to die, the United States is the country most likely to kill me. I can’t seriously be expected to sit here and honestly be afraid of Iran, China, Russia when America is more-than-happy to not give a crap about my life.

And they prove it every day. Every day they do it and get away with it is another blow to my psyche.

Honestly, I worry. I worry about about myself and my family, my coworkers, my friends. Who’s to say that they won’t be carrying my casket, or I won’t be carrying theirs? That we won’t have our lives and families eviscerated by an overzealous media cycle desperately trying to get the best angle for control of the narrative?

George Floyd could’ve been any one of us. Being Black and autistic, I worry about it everyday. That fear, it is a daily constant for me.

Most days I don’t get sad anymore. I can’t process it, I can’t grieve. For every Black body I sit with to process, another one shows up. The only constant is that systemically, nothing changes.

Politicians feel bad, they say nice words, but what do they do?

Nothing.

A can to kick down the road for another time. Platitudes here, empty promises. Hollowness in a corrupt, money-driven America that doesn’t give a damn and quite frankly, doesn’t have to.

When does it stop? When do we get actual reform and justice to make sure this doesn’t happen again? When does America actually start to care? When does the media stop exploiting these tragedies for spin and deflection?

It just seems never-ending and bipartisan, the need to control the narrative, the greed, the stupidity, the systemic corruption, and racism.

A friend of mine was distraught over George Floyd tonight, and I said I can’t afford to be sad now. I have to be angry and focused now and sad later. I have to. Being sad doesn’t do me much good here.

If I can be angry here, in this moment, maybe I can say the right thing now and stop it so that others won’t suffer later.

I would like this not to keep me up nights. May the fight I engage in now set the stage for peace later.

Emmanuel
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