Another One
Later that day, I was in my room writing my song for the group chat and my brother walked in.
“Trey, there was another black shooting.” said my brother.
“What!?!?” I said.
He was right. We turned on the news and the headlines read “Philando Castille shot by police officer Jeronimo Yanez in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. He was shot in front of his girlfriend, Diamond Reynolds, and their four-year-old daughter. My mouth dropped to the ground. It was unbelieveable.
I couldn’t believe it. Another black man had been killed by the police the very next day after Alton Sterling was killed. Two black deaths by the police in less than two days. As soon as I heard about it I told my friends in the group chat. They all thought the same thing I did, “Why? Are they that scared of black people that all they can do is kill. They have other non-deadly weapons on their belt. Pepper spray, taser, and a stick that they can use.
Everybody left and said they had great ideas for poems and songs now that this had happened. We started writing and when we started, we couldn’t stop. They came back with some good stuff. I was going to be the one that wrote all the poems and songs from the group chat on paper. We knew that this stuff was good and that it was good enough to post on social media and show to the public.
I started to think about my dad and what if that was him instead of Philando. He got pulled over. What if the cop shot him? What if my family was in the car with him? Would he have shot him? I still had that fright that one day this could happen to me, my dad, or my brother.
“Trey, there was another black shooting.” said my brother.
“What!?!?” I said.
He was right. We turned on the news and the headlines read “Philando Castille shot by police officer Jeronimo Yanez in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. He was shot in front of his girlfriend, Diamond Reynolds, and their four-year-old daughter. My mouth dropped to the ground. It was unbelieveable.
I couldn’t believe it. Another black man had been killed by the police the very next day after Alton Sterling was killed. Two black deaths by the police in less than two days. As soon as I heard about it I told my friends in the group chat. They all thought the same thing I did, “Why? Are they that scared of black people that all they can do is kill. They have other non-deadly weapons on their belt. Pepper spray, taser, and a stick that they can use.
Everybody left and said they had great ideas for poems and songs now that this had happened. We started writing and when we started, we couldn’t stop. They came back with some good stuff. I was going to be the one that wrote all the poems and songs from the group chat on paper. We knew that this stuff was good and that it was good enough to post on social media and show to the public.
I started to think about my dad and what if that was him instead of Philando. He got pulled over. What if the cop shot him? What if my family was in the car with him? Would he have shot him? I still had that fright that one day this could happen to me, my dad, or my brother.