Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Social Injustice: Sandra Bland

I have been haunted lately by the images I've seen both on social media and the media at large - the mistreatment and death of people who look like me. There was Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray. Rekia Boyd. Countless others and then, for me, the coup de gras, #SandraBland. Sandra's death has set me ALL the way off. Not to say the other deaths didn't hurt, but her death hit in a different way. Sandy could have been me. She was college educated, young, Black, and full of potential and purpose. Just a few years younger than me, she was about to move into a new state, new job, new career. How exciting is that?!

And then...she gets pulled over for doing what many of us have done - moving out of a police officer's way. I've done the very same thing when a cop has been tailing me. I don't remember if I signaled, but I've never gotten a ticket for it. OK, so beyond that point, let's get to the interaction between Sandra and the cop. I have heard all sorts of stuff about her attitude and it's all nonsense. She wasn't sweet, docile, or meek, but WHO CARES. Being pissed off, irritated, or just being a jerk is not a crime in and of itself. If that were the case, a lot more people would be in jail.

Sandra was educated enough to assert her rights and the fact that it rubbed the officer the wrong way is his problem. She answered his questions and she wanted to take her ticket and go about her business. She was pissed about it, but life goes on right? Nope, not for Sandy. Dylan Roff killed NINE people in cold blood during evening prayer and he gets Burger King because he's  hungry and a bullet proof vest to protect him. Sandy gets pulled over for failing to signal and gets threatened with a taser when she refuses to put out a cigarette in the car she bought with her own money and subsequently wrestled to the ground. What's the difference? Race and gender.

Yes, I'm pulling both cards and flagging the play! This is straight doo doo and anyone SHOULD be able to see it. Instead, the media finds a way to make minority victims look like criminals. They rarely use smiling pictures that would make the victim seem approachable, but mugshots or pictures of the person looking unwelcoming in some way are used. If you have any priors, the media will spin it as if you had it coming. Prior guilt = present guilt. Even in the language, "Troubled teen..." "She had traces of marijuana in her system..." I simply CANNOT with the attack upon character.

Regardless of what happened to Sandra Bland in that jail, Officer Encinia violated her rights and breached protocol. Let's focus on that! Indirectly or directly, Sandra's blood is on his hands and it will stain ours too if we continue to let this happen. Let's stop vilifying victims in death. Can we please look at this case without the lens of white privilege and see Sandy as a woman who died a senseless death?

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Learning to Love Me

I, like many I'd say, have struggled most of my life with body image. I remember as a young girl, hating my butt because it made it hard to find pants that fit and it made me appear older. I wasn't built like my friends or the other kids I watched on TV. I didn't like my breasts initially because I started developing when I was in the second grade and I was one of the first to get a training bra. My uncles teased me and I remember being so humiliated. Then, as I got older, I lamented that my breasts weren't bigger. I was still self conscious about my butt. The cat calls from older men from the age of 11 didn't help either. Then in high school, I was convinced I was overweight. I was a size 13 in juniors. At 5'3.5 and 140-145 lbs, the charts in health class said my weight should be at least 20lbs less.

In college, I lost weight from the change in diet and being more active. I dropped to about 135 and a size 9/10. But I had moved on from that focus. I still didn't laud myself as beautiful, but I was thin ( at least for me). I don't remember actually seeing myself as thin though. I could still see lumps and bulges where I thought they shouldn't be. I just began to accept it.

I graduated from college and got my first job - a desk job. As I grew up, I realized my body was still changing. I started to appreciate the new curves, but I still struggled with me. As I got older and eventually accepted Christ, I found the issue never really was about pounds or dress size, it was about how I felt about me on the inside. I didn't love me. I tolerated me. I was always amazed when others seemed to more than tolerate me and I rewarded it with faithfulness and loyalty. Even when the same wasn't shown to me.

Through God, I'm learning to love me. When I look in the mirror, I see with clarity. What God made is beautiful. It's been a long while since I cried in the mirror and asked what was wrong with me. Now, I weigh more than I ever have - but I'm happy with me. Do I desire to lose weight? Sure, but it's to get in shape, not to somehow make myself beautiful or acceptable. I'm already both.