"Ferguson became iconic during the amount of time that
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Friday, August 5, 2016
I swear I see blood on the
street. I can smell it, almost taste it. There is an odd marking on the asphalt, rectangular in shape, that measures approximately eight feet by four feet, proclaiming the exact spot where Michael Brown’s body remains in a pool of blood—“beet red,” according to one witness—for four hours plus in the sweltering heat on August 9, 2014. The boy’s body receives at least six bullets, the first four strike him in the right arm and shoulder and the last two in the head. Darren Wilson performs the coup de grace by aiming the final bullet into the top of Brown’s head; to make sure he is indubitably dead. Ferguson
Nearly two years have elapsed but I am compelled to revisit those events, envision them, maybe even feel them, standing in the unforgiving sunshine with Brian Clarke, my friend from our shared days at Normandy High School (Mike Brown’s Alma Mater as well). Brian and I buy a teddy bear at Target, blessed by a very young black saleswoman when we tell her where we’re taking the little creature). We expect to find a heap of items that conjured Mike, but I would later learn that his father, unable to deal with the constant public reminder of his son’s death, removed the memorial on what would have been Mike’s nineteenth birthday.
Looking at the spot where Mike lost his life, I try to imagine the visceral churning of his mother when she arrives at the scene. “I stormed up and down the sidewalk,” she says. In her book (Tell The Truth & Shame The Devil), Leslie McSpadden] writes: “‘Where is he? Where's the one who did this to my child?’ I got closer to one of them whose face had a permanent scowl carved into it. He stood over me. ‘Ya'll muthafuckas gonna have to answer to this,’ I challenged, looking up at him, square in the eye like I was every bit of the giant he was.
"’Well, we some good motherfuckers,’" he growled, then threw up his middle finger.”
"...Wilson performs the coup de grace by aiming the final bullet into the top of Brown’s head; to make sure he is indubitably dead."
"...perhaps the most potent evolution of a black-white relationship that I have ever witnessed."
Thursday, March 24, 2016
We have struggled, confronted, argued, accused, hated, forgiven, accepted, understood and then repeated the whole routine over again.
But they weren’t hangin’ out on our street corner, sippiin’ green tea, wearin’ t-shirts that said, “Cool Hip Black Role Model Here.”
You wanna talk straight outta
Compton? I get pulled over, one of those pig cocksuckers gets one look at me? Bang, Bang.
Finally, I did ask my father, looking him in the eye, “Why was I named after Huey Newton?”
Saturday, January 23, 2016
|Katherine Kearns with her Dad|Anna Deavere Smith