I, like many African Americans, waited for the verdict on the Derek Chauvin trial. We waited because in the middle of a pandemic, a Black man was brutally murdered, 9 minutes and 29 seconds of the knee of hate on the neck of George Floyd for simply being Black. Human beings, we are human beings, and his cries were ignored while a white man with a badge callously kneeled on his knee, with his sunglasses on, careless. I mourn with his family and all the young people who were brave enough to record that murder. The trial was heart and gut wrenching, hearing the testimony of the witnesses who were helpless because of the power of that badge to dehumanize Black and Brown people. We watched the trial when while it was going on, another Black man, Daunte Wright, became an ancestor too soon. His life taken over air freshener in his mother's car that she let him borrow and a white identified Hispanic woman forgot 29 years of police training to claim she thought her taser was a gun. What wa...
life, really, and a latte by Tayé Foster Bradshaw