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Black Lives Matter –
– In All Ways
Words fail me right now, and greatly so as a white male, but nonetheless I feel I must try…
Black lives matter.
Black lives gave their lives in The Revolutionary War and Civil War, World Wars I and II, Korean and Vietnam, the Gulf War and Afghanistan and Iraq.
And, 76 years ago today on June 6, Black lives stormed the beaches at Normandy.
Black lives save lives as surgeons, E.R. nurses and chemotherapists; as firefighters and paramedics; as lifeguards and suicide hotline volunteers; and, yes, as police officers.
Black lives are 2.5 times more likely than whites to be killed by police.
Black lives ran into the burning Twin Towers on Sept. 11.
Black lives write novels and computer code and love letters.
Black lives rock babies to sleep and are rock stars, rock climbers and rocket scientists.
Black lives are journalists and biologists, perfectionists and pedicurists, artists and astrophysicists.
Black lives grow gardens, grow farms, grow dreams.
Black lives play the piano, guitar and drums; play video games, beer pong and paintball.
Black lives paint masterpieces, paint houses, “paint the outside corner” for strike three.
Black lives know Martin Luther King’s words “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” but wonder why it has bent so very little in America over the past 400 years.
Black lives bleed and weep, laugh and love, pray and raise families.
Young Black lives are much more likely to go hungry than white children.
Black lives read The Bible, The Quran, The Torah and all other religious texts.
Black lives also read Shakespeare and Steinbeck, Du Bois and Baldwin, Harry Potter and comic books.
Black lives march in protest for Black lives and also for rainbow ribbon-wearing lives and pink ribbon-wearing lives and jigsaw puzzle piece-wearing lives.
Black lives need us all to march with them, kneel with them, stand with them – and video record them whenever they are confronted by police.
Black lives give Valentine bouquets, wear prom corsages and boutonnières, place flowers on headstones.
Black lives earn GEDs and Doctorates.
Black lives are playwrights and poets, singers and songwriters, actors and musicians.
Black lives are butchers, bakers and NBA slam-dunk makers.
Black lives are Little Leaguers and Major Leaguers, hotdog vendors and ticket takers.
Black lives fill stadiums and arenas as entertainers, cheer in the stands, and sweep them clean afterward.
Black lives are preachers and teachers, mentors and renters, truck drivers and cancer survivors.
Black lives are astronauts and pilots, Uber drivers and limo riders, cyclists and skateboarders.
Black lives are small business owners and big captains of industry, minimum wage earners and millionaires, lemonade stand kids and startup entrepreneurs.
Black lives are charged on average, even after controlling for debt and credit history, 0.31 percentage points more in mortgage interest than white borrowers.
Black lives sing at birthday parties, dance at weddings, grieve at funerals.
Black lives gaze at the stars and make wishes for future generations while remembering those of the past.
Black lives are golden anniversary lovers and newlyweds, new parents and grandparents.
Black lives count their baby’s fingers and toes at birth; count their blessings on Thanksgiving; count through memories at reunions.
Black lives are our family members and loved ones, classmates and colleagues, neighbors and friends.
Black lives jog in the streets; walk home after buying Skittles; have cars that break down on the road; ask people to put their dog on a leash in the park; and cry out for their mother when they can’t breathe.
Black lives matter dearly.
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …
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