Something has been really troubling my spirit lately. The recent spate of Black on Black killings in my neighbourhood. Now, I haven't been immune to this horrific dilemma that has been like a venomous cancer in my community, but I hold up my hand and admit that I have been kind of complacent. Its not because I don't care, but I just feel hopeless about it. There are no loud voices proclaiming justice or peace. No chorus of voices, just an abandoned riff of sadness. I've added to this inconclusive and mute landscape, and I also hold myself responsible for this as well - or protesting at the local police station about how this will be thwarted, but still the silence which has deafened me over the years has made me try to learn sign language of these young men.
Instead, I, like others have found a real comfortable spot in the sand and burrowed my head deep within, hoping that the killings will eventually stop; that the self hatred will fade away like a pair of well faded levis. Bu I know they will not. They're just becoming more and more frenzied. Young Black males annihilating themselves because of 'respect' and affiliating themselves to gangs who are giving them 'love' and self esteem that they are not automatically gaining from their family members.
My neighbourhood is becoming a overpopulated cemetery, scarred indelibly with the bodies of young black men, who are killing themselves senselessly, due to a sense of hatred and loathing for self. That is it in a nutshell.
I remember, several years back, when my youngest son who was attending high school in another borough, used to literally run a marathon race everyday to our local train station - each way - so he would not be caught up in the 'postcode honour' that these young black boys seem to seek validation from. The 'postcode honour' is about finding out if you are from their 'manor'; their area. If not, you're liable to get beaten up, or even worse, harmed. perhaps in a fatal way. Why? Because their like tomcats, marking and spraying their territories. Also, because they hate what they see, they also destroy their own likeness of themselves.
Thankfully, after I went to live for a couple of years in Holland, he lived with his father as he was attending college up there. His father lives in suburbia and it's not so bad as it is, living here in the inner city. I am proud to say, that my son made conscious, and wise choices and decisions - he had no choice with his father and me as his parents. Suffice to say, he will be attending university to undertake his degree in September 2012.
*Update*
My son is now in university and thriving. I am really proud of his sense of achievements and I am so happy that he, as with my other son, did not persist to peer pressure and become another 'statistic'.
Instead, I, like others have found a real comfortable spot in the sand and burrowed my head deep within, hoping that the killings will eventually stop; that the self hatred will fade away like a pair of well faded levis. Bu I know they will not. They're just becoming more and more frenzied. Young Black males annihilating themselves because of 'respect' and affiliating themselves to gangs who are giving them 'love' and self esteem that they are not automatically gaining from their family members.
My neighbourhood is becoming a overpopulated cemetery, scarred indelibly with the bodies of young black men, who are killing themselves senselessly, due to a sense of hatred and loathing for self. That is it in a nutshell.
I remember, several years back, when my youngest son who was attending high school in another borough, used to literally run a marathon race everyday to our local train station - each way - so he would not be caught up in the 'postcode honour' that these young black boys seem to seek validation from. The 'postcode honour' is about finding out if you are from their 'manor'; their area. If not, you're liable to get beaten up, or even worse, harmed. perhaps in a fatal way. Why? Because their like tomcats, marking and spraying their territories. Also, because they hate what they see, they also destroy their own likeness of themselves.
Thankfully, after I went to live for a couple of years in Holland, he lived with his father as he was attending college up there. His father lives in suburbia and it's not so bad as it is, living here in the inner city. I am proud to say, that my son made conscious, and wise choices and decisions - he had no choice with his father and me as his parents. Suffice to say, he will be attending university to undertake his degree in September 2012.
*Update*
My son is now in university and thriving. I am really proud of his sense of achievements and I am so happy that he, as with my other son, did not persist to peer pressure and become another 'statistic'.
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