Is there a need for anything else to be said about George Floyd's public humiliation and murder? Frankly, I've been stunned into silence—a rarity for me. But I ask myself: Can anything I say matter now?
Maybe not. We can't change what happened, but maybe we can join the mourners across the country who feel powerless but want to take some kind of stand, want to go on the record with all those who have been damaged by the actions of a bad cop.
I read an editorial about Floyd's murder by my friend Oseye Boyd, editor of the Indianapolis Recorder. She wrote about how personally hurt she was by the disregard for human dignity and cruelty surrounding Floyd's death. Her soul was wounded by this. She said, "We are angry. We are frustrated. We are exasperated. We are scared. We are hurt." I got stuck on the word "hurt."
The killing of a man she did not know in a town 500 miles away had caused her physical pain. Reading her words, I realized she had named the pain I had been experiencing as well. I hurt too—and there is nothing you can do about that kind of hurt. Nothing will bring him back or relieve the sorry feeling in your gut. Hurt is exhausting and it hangs heavy on your shoulders. After a while, if you forget why you are sad, you quickly remember. Oh ya, that.
Yes, there are shootings every day. Violence is everywhere. But Floyd's death was not just a murder, it was a crucifixion. Change and justice must come. Respect and love must come. Acceptance and friendship must flourish. Maya Angelou wrote, " It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength." I would add that if you didn't learn this as a child, it's time to learn it as an adult. Way past time.
I don't believe what happened to Floyd could happen here. I pray it could not happen here. And I hope beyond hope that maybe his sacrifice would be the crucible in which final change is realized. That it would be the last time there is a racially-motivated killing. The last time whole races of people take on the guilt for one who has acted so callously.
Could we marry our forces, jumping the broom together, and do George Floyd the honor of coming together over his sacrificial death?
Anger says no. But love says yes.
Nancy
