I am so Glad my mother is alive today.
Some shit went down in Oakland that I can’t get into and I think that much of the subtext of distress/anger I been feeling this week has to do with the fact that it is only by God’s grace that a bullet ain’t strike her.
That she is still alive.
As many of you know I was working on a proposal to study the impact of Crack on Oakland specifically but cities in general.
In one of my classes, one of my peers asked me the “so what” question.
The “so what” question is basically “who should give a fuck about the fact that you are doing this” question. It is reasonable. Right?
But peep game, this woman’s project was four condom. Meaning that she censored herself out of desire of be published.
People without heart need to stay out my face. #OnEverything.
Trust. I want to be published however, I am not gone compromise my heart to do it. I am the person that has to live with that shit every day, not anyone else.
And if I do compromise myself to do it, I ain’t gonna be up in people face ‘taumbout the “so what” question.
In class, a colleague spoke up for me, because I honestly was in shock and ain’t know what to say.
She said that my project has meaning for people who are interested in:
Violence? as a Public Health Issue
Race, Gender and Drug Policy
Race and Public Policy
Modern US? City History
The Crack Epidemic and the Global Economy
For me. Violence is a feminist project. Violence is a huge part of my work because so much of where I come from is marked by it.
My mother’s experience reminds me.
I am glad she is alive. I almost ain’t have my mother, and it kinda got me fucked up.
Thank you for reading.