martin ferguson

me talking about how attractive I find guys my age:
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me talking about men much older than me:
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If you were not prepared to be put into compromising positions, you shouldn’t have been a police officer.

If you couldn’t see a black teenager in a hoodie without killing him, you shouldn’t have been a police officer.

If you couldn’t handle a black teenager refusing to come to your office without body slamming her into the ground and then dragging her, you shouldn’t have been a police officer.

If you couldn’t stop from shooting at a young black man who was accused of robbing a convenience store (which he didn’t), you shouldn’t have been a police officer.

If you couldn’t contain the situation without shooting when a black mans tail light was out and you felt threatened after you pulled him over, you shouldn’t have been a police officer.

No more excuses.

Dates To Remember

January 12th, 2010 - Earthquake in Haiti

May 16, 2010 - Aiyana Stanley-Jones

September 17, 2011 - Occupy Wall Street

February 26, 2012 - Trayvon Martin

April 14, 2014 - Nigerian school girls go missing

July 17, 2014 - Eric Garner

August 5th, 2014 - John Crawford III

August 9, 2014 - Mike Brown

August 9, 2014 (Still happening) - Ferguson Protests

January 3, 2015 - Nigeria Massacre

If I’ve forgotten anything, and I’m sure I have, please add on.

How Mike Woke Me Up

It’s difficult for me to recall life before Mike Brown. Life before #BlackLivesMatter became a reflex. Before the pot boiled over.

I remember Trayvon and the case against George Zimmerman shaking me out of deep slumber; I remember the burning anger that started deep in my core when Zimmerman walked free. I remember all of that but I think I was still dreaming a little, I still didn’t feel quite as invested. I was young and dominos were tipping; I started noticing when black men and women were killed but a short prayer for their families and a quick read of the article, and I went back to sleep.

Then Eric Garner happened right where I was. New York City, my home, became tense and the blue of NYPD became stained with blood as I learned the history I was never taught. I tossed, I turned, I fought against waking up because I didn’t want to find out what being awake would bring me. I was afraid.

And just after that, just when I was squeezing my eyes closed and willing myself to fall back to sleep, Mike Brown was killed. He was so young, like they often are. He was excited to have finished high school. He should’ve been starting college. It felt like ice water to the face and in a way, it was. It was the icy reality of racism, pain, and the deceit that allowed me to be comfortable enough to sleep. I remember how much I cried, how painful it was to accept this truth.

Mike Brown woke me up in time to take in the world for what it is. I’m not sleepy anymore but that doesn’t mean I’m not tired. When I see his name, when I see those hashtags, I mourn for those I’ve never met; I miss them. I wish I didn’t have to learn their names in this way. But I have to. And I will continue to. Because this isn’t over. And today, August 9th, 2015, on the first anniversary of Mike’s death, I say a special prayer of comfort, healing, and protection for his family and friends. A prayer for those on the front lines marching, and those of us doing what we can to educate people. I say a prayer for each and every black man, woman and child. May we be protected as we go through our every day lives.

Remember Mike. Remember Ferguson. Remember that no matter how they try to fight against us that Black Lives Matter.

Kids Who Die by Langston Hughes

This is for the kids who die,
Black and white,
For kids will die certainly.
The old and rich will live on awhile,
As always,
Eating blood and gold,
Letting kids die.

Kids will die in the swamps of Mississippi
Organizing sharecroppers
Kids will die in the streets of Chicago
Organizing workers
Kids will die in the orange groves of California
Telling others to get together
Whites and Filipinos,
Negroes and Mexicans,
All kinds of kids will die
Who don’t believe in lies, and bribes, and contentment
And a lousy peace.

Of course, the wise and the learned
Who pen editorials in the papers,
And the gentlemen with Dr. in front of their names
White and black,
Who make surveys and write books
Will live on weaving words to smother the kids who die,
And the sleazy courts,
And the bribe-reaching police,
And the blood-loving generals,
And the money-loving preachers
Will all raise their hands against the kids who die,
Beating them with laws and clubs and bayonets and bullets
To frighten the people—
For the kids who die are like iron in the blood of the people—
And the old and rich don’t want the people
To taste the iron of the kids who die,
Don’t want the people to get wise to their own power,
To believe an Angelo Herndon, or even get together

Listen, kids who die—
Maybe, now, there will be no monument for you
Except in our hearts
Maybe your bodies’ll be lost in a swamp
Or a prison grave, or the potter’s field,
Or the rivers where you’re drowned like Leibknecht
But the day will come—
You are sure yourselves that it is coming—
When the marching feet of the masses
Will raise for you a living monument of love,
And joy, and laughter,
And black hands and white hands clasped as one,
And a song that reaches the sky—
The song of the life triumphant
Through the kids who die.

"Don't take a nude pic if you're a famous woman and don't want it leaked."

“Don’t wear a hoodie if you don’t want to be mistaken for a criminal and shot.”

“Don’t get drunk at a party if you don’t want to be sexually assaulted.”

“Don’t argue with a cop if you don’t want to get killed.”

“Don’t walk home by yourself if you don’t want to get raped.”

Victim blaming 101: Everyone should live in fear from ever doing anything.

Fed Up With The Bullshit
Big L
Fed Up With The Bullshit

I’m a kid who don’t dig a muthafuckin pig
Cause to me they ain’t nothin but harassers
That misuse they badges to whip n*s asses
Then one day they slow rolled through the hood
With the .38s cocked, 2 deep, up to no good
They say that my skin was black so they attacked
Threw me on the back and stuck a gat to my fuckin cap
One murdered my man like it was okay
For the life he ended he got suspended with no pay
But if a man woulda took the cop life, he woulda got life
And never again see the street lights, and that’s trife
Around my way they shot many teens
And them cops better stop, or I'ma stop em, by any means
The Big L won’t hesitate to cold diss em
And if you ask me, muthafuck the whole system
There are too many young black brothers doin life bids
Cause justice means ‘just us white kids’
So take heed to the rhymes I kick
I’m about to flip, cause I’m fed up with that bullshit

Fed Up With the Bullshit - Big L

Please fire me. I was told I could not wear a hoodie over my work uniform because I blended in with the customers and one of the managers couldn’t find me. I’ve been working here for over 2 years.