Last night, I dreamed of #petroglyph
deer in motion. Cut. Next I saw horned antelopes running, a species that looked somewhere between #okapi
, and #bongo
. Cut. Then I saw masked figures swimming in and out of focus. Their masks could have been #Africana
I awoke, opening my eyes to see the face of #NiaWilson
. I didn't know Nia Wilson personally, but I have a friend who was her teacher. I have a second friend who, just days after Nia Wilson's life was stolen by a racist vigilante in Oakland, California, went to the movies. The person at the counter appeared distraught, so my friend showed up, asking the most simple of #sacred
questions: "how are you?" The person said they are Nia Wilson's cousin.
My eyes, open and wide, next see the face of Claudia Patricia Gómez González. I didn't know Claudia Patricia Gómez González either, but, in the days after her murder at the hands of the border police, I came to converse with one of her young relatives via Instagram. Mind you, #ClaudiaPatriciaGómezGonzález
was just 20 when she was murdered. How old is her young relative? May they always be loved, #protected
, and brave.
Tears are streaming down my face as I realize that my feet are on fire. My feet feel engulfed in flames, yet I'm frozen with my arms raised over my head. #HandsUpDontShoot
. Slowly, I wiggle my toes. Slowly, I slide off my socks. Slowly, I wiggle my fingers. Slowly, I move into #action
#Descolonização #Bendición #Yansa