This Child's Life Matters

I have been sitting on my sofa for hours watching buildings burn down, people being gassed, and anger that has been trapped inside people spring out in force. As I was watching this my phone rang and the voice on the other end of the phone asked me how I was doing. I started by saying "I'm sad", and I was. I have been crying off and on all night thinking about this situation. But as I started to explain why I was sad, I could feel this rage lift inside of me and I realized I am deeply sad, but I am incredibly angry.

Michael Brown was a child whose life mattered. He was a kid that made some poor choices, but so did I when I was young. The difference is I never had to fear for my life. I almost ran a police officer over because I was not paying attention while driving and I didn't even get a ticket. I have never feared the police, and that is a privilege in our country.

I first learned about privilege when I was in the third grade and saw racism for the first time. My parents bought me a biography of MLK to help me understand the dichotomy of oppression and privilege . But it wasn't until I was 18 and my boss/mentor Joey sat me down and really talked to me about what it means to have privilege, that I truly comprehended my privilege. Then I did what most middle class white girls do, I felt guilty and I tried harder than I should have. I  blundered through learning how to cope with something I had always possessed. But as I grew I settled into what it means to know that just because of where you were born, what you look like, and how much money your parents make, you have different rights and freedoms. Eventually I learned how to take that knowledge and transform my guilt into action and understanding.

So as I sit tonight mourning the life of Michael Brown and the children in my community that have been killed because of where they live, what they look like, and how much money their parents make. I want to scream THIS CHILD'S LIFE MATTERED! Someone found joy in his first steps, his first words, the first time he went potty in the big boy potty. He studied for spelling tests, and wore his best clothes on picture day at school. He proudly put on a cap and gown and graduated from high school beating the odds of thousands of students who drop-out of school every year. His friends called him Mike and his mother called him son.

For me this is less about police officers or gun laws. It's about seeing children as people, about zip code not dictating if you will have to be afraid of being killed or imprisoned, it's about seeing a young person as a human full of promise and talent, not a threat.  Yes we must work hard to fix the system, but more importantly we must dissect how we treat children, all children, regardless of where they were born, what they look like and how much money their parents make.

We must look at the life of Michael Brown and say, this child mattered.

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