Saturday, May 3, 2014
Dear everyone. Over two hundred girls are still missing. Except they are not missing. They are somewhere. They deserve our prayers and attention. They deserve the prayers we would pray if these were our own daughters missing. Because they are. These are my daughters and your daughters too. Black women don't make a distinction when it comes to throwing bricks and swinging broomsticks because we know that all of the babies are ours. All of them. Well, these are your children too. Don't preach to us. We cannot hear you. Don't tell us the proper way to mourn. We know how to mourn. Do not talk to us about moving on. Do not ask us what Jesus would do. Jesus would fight. Do not send us pictures of little lambs and cucumber grass. We are angry. We are so angry. You know the kind of anger that comes over a woman when she is just so mad she can only get really quiet? Well, that's where we are. It is all bubbling up again inside of us. We have been through this before. We remember, you know, not just mothers, but fathers too. We know the noise you can make. Because we heard you shout before...when your daughters were missing...when you wanted your sons home. We know the signs that you can paint. We know the money you can spend. You think we don't know? We know when we are being ignored. We know when you want us to just cool down. We know. We know the voices that we hear, and the voices that we don't.