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“reck·less”
/ˈrekləs/
adjective
(of a person or their actions) without thinking or caring about the consequences of an action.
Seems like a fitting “word of the day” considering what has been happening in our country recently.
It saddens me to see such hate going on in our home. The reckless behavior of police have led to insurmountable pain and devastation that is rolling through our country like a ball that has caught fire and ignites every path it rolls through.
It saddens me that this is a reality; a reality that I genuinely thought was just a misunderstanding when I was growing up. That misunderstanding seemed to be happening all too frequently and the more I didn’t want to believe it, the more I was faced with the truth.
Yes, I understand that the actions of a few does not determine or define the actions of many. I have known several law enforcement officers in my life that are amazing human beings. I don’t want to discredit their sacrifices whatsoever. The ones that know right from wrong and do not abuse their powers are the ones I look up to.
However, the story of police brutality is one that you hear of often and start to wonder does the problem lie deeper than what you can see? Obviously, the answer is yes otherwise our country wouldn’t be where we are in this moment; in turmoil.
I am not a person of color and I sheepishly admit that I do not understand how those of color feel or what experiences they’ve had in their lives that would make them uncomfortable, scared, or feel like they are less than someone else.
And for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that there is such a difference between us. I’m sorry about the cruelty of others. And I’m sorry for the unfairness and the many times you’ve been cheated from this life.
While I might not be a person of color, I did marry a man of color. My husband made a comment in the past that he is thankful our son is light skinned like me. I didn’t understand that statement at the time. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be happy about passing on his darker skin tone to our children.
But now I do. After the news of George Flyod’s death, I talked to my husband about the racism in our country.
To my surprise, he educated me on the many times he has been profiled and pulled over by police because of his skin color. He isn’t considered a black man, but he is a brown Hispanic man.
I never knew this part about his life (even after nearly 16 years together). And it hurt that someone I love could be treated so negatively because of pigmentation.
All this to say, I thought our country was moving in a direction of equality. I thought we were a land of opportunity for everyone. Naive, yes. It saddens me that we live in such hatred and recklessness.
Where do we go from here?
