I'm Pam Newman.
I am awesome every day & you are too.
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I'm a writer of aricles, poems & songs. Here's some cool stuff I wrote.
I have had Janelle Monae’s “Sincerely Jane” on repeat. It speaks to me y’all.
She asks us:
"Are we really living or just walking dead now?"
Are we? We are numb. I don’t exactly agree with the entire message of the song, but the chorus.
The chorus, y’all.
"Way we live/way we die/such a tragedy/I’m so terrified/Daydreamers, please wake up, we can’t sleep no more."
It’s tragedy upon tragedy, and like I said yesterday, I’m fucking terrified. What is happening feels surreal. Like we are actually living through science fiction in real time. We suffer through an oppressive upper class who works hard to keep us poor and afraid. All of this is to maintain capitalism.
Ain’t that a bitch? They tell us that we could just work hard, and we’ll get a bigger slice of the pie. I don’t know not one motherfucking poor person who doesn’t work hard.
Wake up daydreamers, we can’t sleep no more.
- Ferguson protestors plan to halt highway traffic on Labor Day (x)
- At least 6 other Ferguson officers have been named in lawsuits alleging the use of excessive force
- Why taxpayers will get stuck with the bill for the Ferguson lawsuit
- Ferguson isn’t about black rage against cops. It’s white rage against progress.
- Between the world and Ferguson
- Teaching and talking about police violence
I have been saying this to myself a lot:
The political, economic and legal systems of this country are all forms of terrorism.
I am fucking terrorized.
Every time I see a police officer, I am afraid. Every time my boyfriend gets in a car, I am scared that he might get pulled over and abused. Whether that abuse shows up as a ticket for going 55 in the 54 or actual physical violence, I’m scared.
Mikal was walking down the street in fucking new Albany a few weeks ago and someone shouted “punk ass nigger!” At him. What is Mikal’s recourse? If he took action, would anyone give a damn other than other black folks and people who care about him? That’s fucking terrorism.
I read the news and I am afraid for the sons of my friends. Beautiful children with wonder in their eyes bring raised with love and compassion. But the world around them equates them with dangerous ideals; a repugnant fantasy created to other our men.
I was raised in a place where most people were black. 40% of Philadelphia is black. I never felt unsafe in a group of young black men. Well, not that I can recall. I felt safer. I felt protected by people who would likely look out for me. The hood boys on the street who knew my mom knew to watch out for me. Believing anything to the contrary is a product of propaganda and terrorism.
I am terrorized watching the news. They are shooting us just to kill us. We did nothing wrong but show up and be black. That young man shot while SHOPPING in a mall… Supporting America’s religion of capitalism … He was murdered in cold blood while talking to his girlfriend on the phone. In the back.
That is fucking terrorism.
I know who the terrorists are and the department of homeland security is not protecting me from them. It is giving them pay checks and pensions and medical and dental. The government is not protecting me from shit. The government is not concerned with my well being, or the well being of my partner, of the well being of my friends’ seven year old little boys.
They are protecting white supremacy and paying other racist motherfuckers to kill us, put us in boxes and prevent out well being.
I am anti terrorism and I hope you are too.
But are you paying attention to what’s going on??? My heart is so heavy….. so heavy…
An attorney for the family of John Crawford III, the man fatally shot by police in an Ohio Walmart store, says surveillance video contradicts the police department’s version of events. Officers say Crawford refused to drop the pellet gun he was holding, but the video allegedly shows them gunning him down “on sight.”
Crawford, 22, was shopping at the Beavercreek, Ohio store on Aug. 5 whenpolice responded to another customer’s report that Crawford was carrying an AR-15 rifle. He was actually holding a pellet air rifle he had just picked up from a shelf in the store’s toy department.
Attorney Michael Wright says he viewed surveillance video that shows Crawford was facing away from the cops and talking to his girlfriend on the phone when police spotted him, and didn’t have the toy gun raised. Hetold WDTN Crawford probably didn’t see or hear the officers before he was shot.
"John was doing nothing wrong in Walmart, nothing more, nothing less than shopping,"Wright said, according to Reuters.
#johncrawford #rip #justice #dontshoot
If the reputation of cops is so important to you, then why aren’t you throwing every single bad cop to the wolves to protect that reputation? If being a “good cop” emphasizes loyalty to shit cops over competence and human decency, then you can just fucking live with people saying cops are shit.
Sometimes when I am all alone, depression speaks to me, and loudly.
"You’re not good enough. Nothing you do turns out right."
"You’re ugly and fat. Nothing looks good on you."
"You are all alone. They have forgotten about you, and nobody cares. Alone is how you have to be and you will die alone, uncared for."
"Why do you even bother," it tells me. "Stay on the couch, there is nothing for you outside but pain and hate. Failure awaits you!"
Sometimes I am afraid to go outside because that sounds so real. It is a big scary world outside, and it isn’t fair. I am black,I am a woman and I have value. Depression runs rampant in my community of people who look like me. We are often told the things that are in our heads are true by other people. Some of them mean to protect us from the harshness of the world. Others are living in a world where reality is so harmful and traumatic that the voice of depression is telling them what they perceive to be the actual truth.
I am lucky enough to know that my depression is a dirty, dirty liar. It tries to fool me into staying inside and hiding my light away. But my light is bright when it shines. It would be selfish (and depression is a selfish illness) to keep all of my goodness to myself. So I fight. I take my medicine. Sometimes I smoke a little ganja to make it even easier.
I refuse to be a victim of the evil this world has spewed on me, and my sensitivity to it.