by Ìbùkúnolúwa Dàda & Mia Boykin
On June 11, I honored the memory of Emmett Till who died during Jim Crow with a story after Rep Byron Donalds romanticized the era while representing ex-President Donald Trump at a a presidential campaign in Philadelphia.
In the story, I wrote about the Till movie, “ I saw the movie in 2022 and I was halfway through before I remembered why I avoid such movies—I become so emotional that I sometimes do not find the words to describe it. ” Little did I know I know that I would have to watch another video a month after, not a movie this time, but a live recording of the murder of a black woman—Sonya Massey.
It gets more troubling with the knowledge that Sonya Massey’s family history reportedly connects her to a significant figure who was also lynched in the same city. William Donnegan was a Black man who was lynched during the infamous Springfield Race Riot of 1908. Although he initially survived this horrific act, he later died from other injuries sustained during the attack.
Donnegan was one of 17 Black individuals who lost their lives in the course of the two-day outbreak of racial violence. This historical context adds another layer of tragedy to Massey’s untimely death, highlighting the long-standing issues of racial injustice in the area.
I cannot even start to say how I feel, and I am not alone in this. Many Black people when watching the video felt broken in many ways. After watching the body-cam video on July 22, I reported Vice President Kamala Harris’ call for Congress to pass George Floyd Justice in Policing Act so the police can be reformed. In her statement, we are reminded Harris dedication to the black cause and contribution toward ending this rollercoaster of traumatic emotions.
She wrote “I join President Biden in commending the swift action of the State’s Attorney’s Office and in calling on Congress to pass the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act, a bill that I coauthored in the Senate. In this moment, in honor of Sonya’s memory and the memory of so many more whose names we may never know, we must come together to achieve meaningful reforms that advance the safety of all communities,” Why has the bill not been passed?
The lack of action from Congres on this bill represents a lack of care for Black American people by our own government, and for the deaths of our loved ones at the hands of government-funded police. This is not a new story, if anything, for the United States, the disrespect of Black bodies is a tale as old as time.
When Congress decides to not act on bills like the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act, or when leaders decide to ignore another Black death, or when community members are left fighting, screaming, marching for some form of justice, and our bodies are being disrespected all over again.
The Shade Room reported that the hospital did not tell her son, Malachi Hill who shot his mother nor did the police reach out to him. This only demonstrates, even more, how the Black body, especially the Black woman, has been culturally demoted for centuries. It is extremely troubling that a son lost his mother, and was left with no answers as to how, or why. And how many Black children have been in similar places?
Did the hospital tell Philandro Castille’s daughter how he died, or did they tell Gianna Floyd her father was suffocated without remorse? And so many more of the nameless statistics of bodies that die at the hands of police, what about their children?
When something like this happens, it affects all of the Black community. We are left with questions, anger, nausea, and genuine pain. We all know we could be Sonya Massey, or we all have a mother, a sister, or a daughter who could be Sonya Massey. And this, this consistent reiteration of panic and anxiety when you see a police officer? It only retraumizies the Black community over and over and over again.
Civil rights attorney Ben Crump has decided to represent the Massey family, and he has said: “She was dealing with some issues. She needed a helping hand. She didn’t need a bullet to the face.’’ Many have echoed this but we are glad Crump didn’t just utter words but acted as he is known to do
Essence was able to live up to its name and captured the moments leading to Massey’s death powerfully in a eulogy titled with her last words. ‘Í rebuke you in the name of Jesus’. And here is a part of the eulogy that touched us the most:
Your resting place has awakened a story that far too often we hear. Hashtags that come with memorial anniversaries and no changes to the law. Questions are left unanswered, and what-ifs stir in circles.
How do we protect ourselves against those called to serve? Why does the beauty of Black skin become a target for brutality?
May the unison of our voices ascend to the mountaintop and dip into the valleys until the truth is spoken and justice is given. Rest well; we will carry the fight from here.
And we promise to carry the fight from here. We promise to continue fighting for the dehumanization of Black bodies to end. We promise to argue for the recognition of Black bodies to be treated as they are, whole. We promise to work to end the fear of Black people of walking, driving, breathing, and marching. Our white allies shouldn’t have to stand at the frontlines of protests, because they know, just as we know, that we are not safe with police.
And we should be! We should be safe in this country, we should be able to trust the services around us to keep us safe. We should be able to raise our children without fear of them seeing a video of us murdered on their TikTok. We should be able to breathe, and relax, and trust that we are safe. But, we are not. So we must keep working.
We promise to end the cycle last words that are not fitting as epitaphs. We promise to demand that the government moves and warns our brothers and sisters from Africa who seek safety by coming here.
Finally, we at TANTV promise to tell everyone and establish that tanned souls and bodies are not trivial.
