Gather. Discover. Cultivate.
One block from home after a Black Lives Matter event, blue strobes flash in the rearview mirror. The irony does not escape me. I bend to pull my wallet from under the seat. Beyond irony, a stunning privilege. I feel around the floor. My hand closes around leather. I pry it out and set it on the passenger seat.
Continue reading “Whose Life Matters: Privilege, Policing, and the Distribution of Trauma”
My son in the dark
with a Nerf gun rebuilt
using power drill
and silver paint
darts between houses
and flattens into shadow
while I walk the dog
twenty paces behind
performing solitude
first
and then alarm
as he springs
from between parked cars
and levels his sights
certain
all of us will make it
home
alive
Image: Henri Cartier-Bresson (1935)
On the eve of the March for our Lives, it’s worth remembering one of the many reasons we have to do this.
