An Open Letter From the Victims (transcribed)

In light of the Columbus Police Department tweeting out of their ass this past week.

In light of them basically asking us to credit them for not shooting one of us-this time.

In response to “FACTSMATTER” while they continually forget that so do black lives.

I now sit mad as hell at a corrupt system. Therefore, I thought I would publish a typed version of this piece from last year.

My dearest officer,

Our skin was and is not illegal.

Though our hair reminds of the fields that we slaved. Though it has been mistaken for weapons and our blood has been preyed upon by generations of hatred and taken by means which we ourselves do not understand.

Dear Sir, Our melanin was and is not a crime. It is but a reflection of the sun as it reflects onto one who appropriates our culture. It is the movement. It is the pride, if you would possibly begin to decide to embrace us. I am not a danger sir but that is what you see- And I can not harm you with just skittles and tea. My hands are up officer I can not breathe. Please don’t take my life I have children to feed. I said that I will come home, I told them that I would- but you see another black man so you assume gangster ,you think hood, and you probably think I’m no good. And you think That i fight because my skin isn’t light. Right? and that’s why you shot me because I look suspicious walking home in the night. But ma’am the only fight I put up is one to live and sir the only fist I will ever raise is one to give my brothers a chance against your aggression . There is hate in your voice, but sir in mine there is pain because you took away my daughter- my sister. Hashtag say her name. We should not have to justify the color of our skin by using a dead persons name, tweeting a dead person’s name, hash tagging a dead persons name again and again. my skin. My skin is not a fire sir. It will not burn you. Let me teach you about my culture- About it’s beauty. Do you want to learn? you, you have privilege . You can wear a hoodie even when it is not cold and you don’t have to worry about kids getting bold enough to call you nigger. If my skin is a gun then your hate is it’s trigger. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry to offend you with black lives matter but if you were not aware, black lives they do matter . And in case you did not hear me, once more I matter. And you can question and you can argue that hashtag once your blood has been spattered across the nation, on erased history books, on roads your ancestors paved and in the fields in which they slaved. And do not get me started on how 28 days-it’s not enough…to showcase our struggle and how our skins been made tough by the scorn that you have shown and the strange fruit that has grown from your loathing. Do not talk to me about making America Great until my cousin needs not worry for an early expiration date. Until way deep down in the depths of your heart there is no longer any hate. Sir, my skin. Sir, her skin. Mam, his skin -officer, our skin was and is not illegal. We are kings and We are queens. We are regal, and we too officer,we…we are people. So please do not shoot us. Please stop shooting us because just like you, we ourselves, our existence is very very legal.

Best regards, your victims

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