Did you know that 468 miles of road bear the full name of Jefferson Davis, president of the confederacy? Did you know that Fort Hood in Texas is the largest military base in the US and named after a Confederate general, John Bell Hood? Fort Rucker, Alabama, is named for Confederate Col. Edmund W. Rucker, and is where all of the Army's aviation training has taken place since 1973. Fort Benning in my own Georgia is named for Confederate General Henry Benning and is home to the formerly named School of the Americas, where the military teaches tactics of torture, assassination and subversion for use in Latin American military offices.
So, given these appalling facts, it probably doesn't surprise you to know that Martin Luther King Jr's parks are often some of the smallest, the most in need of repair, and found in some of the more desperate neighborhoods in the nation. Have you ever noticed how MLK Blvd. always runs through the ghetto? Well I have, and when I lived in St. Louis, one of the most racially tense places I have ever been (and I grew up in Atlanta), I noticed something perhaps even more insidious. There was a park, a public park, right in the heart of the Loop, a neighborhood known for being frequented by all races, where there were two plastic horses-on-coils that the innocent neighborhood children could ride. One was black and one was cream colored. I thought this was OUTRAGEOUS. Two horses, one choice, black or white? It was so obviously racist I couldn't believe it. But at the same time, subtle. I mean who's really lookin at/for that kind of thing, right? In a child's park? But in St. Louis? In the Loop neighborhood? Could be innocuous, could be insidious?
I chose to see it as insidious; as ridiculous and terrible that children were being subjected to this racist choice. So I did the only thing that occurred to me: I defaced the black one with red enamel paint, which I was using to represent blood at the time. Now, I can't tell you exactly what I was thinking because this was one of my less lucid, more fearful, mental times. But I wanted to let them know that I knew: knew what the fuck they were up to. I wanted the institution to know that someone out there saw what they were doing and didn't approve. I wanted to kill the racism because I hate it so. I'm not sure if I've made that clear here but I love all races. Seriously. I think all skin tones are beautiful and I especially like really dark, dark black skin tones. Right now I'm on an Indian/Hispanic/Middle Eastern kick. I like that perma-tan look. Hawaii all day long. But I love all skin tones and think that all cultures are beautiful. Including white, black, and anything in between. So that night when I went out and poured red paint on a black horse, I was trying to call out the institution for being racist, in my own small, ridiculous, and slightly-illegal way.
Now, here comes the crazy part. Something happened. Like, a big something. I'm not sure if I caused it, or just had a premonition or what, but on my best friend from St. Louis's birthday, August 9, a black man was shot and killed by a white police officer in Ferguson, Missouri, kicking off the modern Black Lives Matters movement. I'm not sure how much time separated when I poured that fateful paint and when the real blood actually flowed, but I believe deep down that I was a part of this.
R.I.P. Michael Brown and Martin Luther King Jr.
PS - Racism is not the only thing institutionalized. In a park in a white neighborhood in St. Louis there was another plastic horse tragedy. One horse was pink and one horse was blue. Gender problems anyone??? Or, also, human trafficking symbols??!!
In addition, before this, around 2012, I was having premonitions tantamount to visions that there would be riots in Missouri. I remember just feeling the racial tension everywhere in that city and like, seeing in my mind's eye people running and rioting and being ravaged by police. It was nuts. I remember I told a witch friend of mine that lived there at the time and she was like, nah, boo, you're projecting and that shit is inside YOU. I was like, oh dear... But IT HAPPENED. Just like I saw: people running nilly willy and police and riots and all of it...
I called out the institutionalized racism in St. Louis, Missouri using magic, because I am a witch (didn't you know???) and because I did, one of the more powerful movements of this decade was born. Granted, Michael Brown had to die, but maybe it was worth it?? Who knows? I don't. All I know is that when I just searched google to find the name of the kid that was killed this came up: The Ferguson unrest (also referred to just as Ferguson) involved protests and riots that began the day after the fatal shooting of Michael Brown by white police officer Darren Wilson on August 9, 2014, in Ferguson, Missouri.
Notice that it's the white man's name that is bolded. I mean, really??? He was the villain here. Why is his named bolded and not the black kid's? It's so fucked up. This subtle shit is the most insidious form of racism. It makes me sick. So today, I tell my truth. Racism needs to die. Tell a friend.
Notice that it's the white man's name that is bolded. I mean, really??? He was the villain here. Why is his named bolded and not the black kid's? It's so fucked up. This subtle shit is the most insidious form of racism. It makes me sick. So today, I tell my truth. Racism needs to die. Tell a friend.
R.I.P. Michael Brown and Martin Luther King Jr.
PS - Racism is not the only thing institutionalized. In a park in a white neighborhood in St. Louis there was another plastic horse tragedy. One horse was pink and one horse was blue. Gender problems anyone??? Or, also, human trafficking symbols??!!
