Gettin’ Shot By the Cops

Black people hate that shit.  By now everyone knows that the New York cops that plugged the celebrating bridegroom with 50 shots the day before his wedding got off scott-free, just like the cops who plugged that African immigrant several years ago in New York.  The list of black men being killed by the cops is long and moi does not have to point out that if black cops were shooting little white boys as often as white cops are shooting little black boys something would have been done about that shit a long time ago.  

Moi spent the entire childhood of her one black male child worrying about and making sure he didn’t get shot by the cops. He came close though.  He was stopped once for jaywalking.  Yes, I said jaywalking.  Yours truly was awaken out of an afternoon nap by some cop calling wanting to know if her son had a tattoo on his hand.  Immediately thinking she was getting a call to identify his body she became alarmed and demanded to know why the cop was calling her about a tattoo and, no, he did not have a tattoo.  She demanded to know why in the hell the caller wasn’t identifying her son, a minor, and telling you where to get him, instead of calling her and alarming her with questions about a damned “tattoo” on his hand and if he were white the call would have been a different one at which point the caller got mad, said that wasn’t true, and hung up on her!!! 

Well come to find out, her son was picked up for jaywalking.  Yes, once again, I said jaywalking and seeing a “tattoo” that he and abused into his hand (He had defiled the perfect body moi had borned him with by taking an eraser and erasing the initials “TDK” into his hand.  TDK represented the initials of his two buddies and himself and the company, TDK ,that made audiotapes.) the immediate assumption by the white cops was that he was a gang member (not!).   Demanding to know exactly where he was, yours truly was directed to the corner near her home, where he and apparently a gang of outlaw citizens, minorities all, were being rounded up for jaywalking!  Moi gets there and while she’s talking to the cop, her son says, “Look, ma, they are letting white people go and only picking minorities.”  Moi lived in a very diverse community and, yep, only blacks, asians, and  hispanics were in the round up.  Turning back to the cop I asked if that were true.  Ever see an angry white man?  That is some crazy, scary shit.  Those people are insane.  There is insanity bubbling right under the psyche of white people and when it comes through watch out.  He went ballistic.  Eyes bulging, spittle flying out of his mouth, face contorted, he was spreading cracker crumbs every where.  This did not faze moi because she is known to let loose herself every now and then and she was not backing down.   

Long story short, moi, raised hell, demanded an apology and got the sargent calling her to apologize, whereupon she gave him a lecture on “profiling” a word not yet in use and not the word she used but what she meant.  She was offered a ridealong with the cops so I guess she could see the dangers they face and why they got to keep  ‘N down.  She said she wasn’t interested but pointed out every time *she* sends her baby boy to the store she has to worry about whether or not some cop looking for some vague black male that just knocked over liquor store doesn’t shoot her child and all the Al Sharptons in the world protesting wouldn’t be bringing her baby back - something, mind you, that white women do not worry about when they send their baby boys out into the world.  

Another point: One day when baby boy was younger she caught him going out to play with his little friends with a water gun in his hand.  Uh-uh, moi told him, oh no, not for you to climb over a fence or something playing cowboys and some white woman looks out the window and calls the cops because some huge burly negro is in her backyard and next thing I know you been shot by the cops.  Little black boy can’t even play cowboys and indians without their mommas worrying the cops going to shoot them.  Forget drivebys.

Getting shot by the cops, black people hate that shit. 

Dey Mommas

Black people love their mommas.  Mommas are big in the black community.   Mommas hold it all together in the black community.  They are the glue in the black family.  Yours truly was recently honored to attend a neighbor’s celebration of her momma’s 80th.  The entire party laying on hands to bless her brought tears to moi’s eyes.  They are Nigerian and Christian and it was a beautiful thing to see.  God bless her. 

Back in the day if you wanted to start a fight with a black person, just say “Your momma!” and an ass-whipping you would be a-gettin’.  ”Your momma” was fighting words for sure.  Black mommas endure a lot - poverty, food stamps, welfare, lack of education, and lack of monetary support.  Moi’s own momma raised four kids on $80 a week and pink slips from child suport court that notified her yet again that her ex-husband had not paid child support that week.  Moi knew that sometimes the cupboards were a little bare, but she didn’t know she was that damned po’ when she was growing up.  But that goes to show how black mommas can create some miracles. 

Back in the day yours truly did not understand white women’s dislike and disrepect for their mommas.  She couldn’t imagine not loving your momma with all your heart and keeping her at home and taking care of her when she is old and sick.  Black people do not cart their black mommas off to the old folk’s home to be neglected and mistreated, we keep our mommas at home with us, feeding them and, yes, washing their behinds like they did for us when we were babies.  And you haven’t come full circle until you have washed your momma’s behind and have to bury her.   Moi’s own momma is gone now, but she is alive her in memory and in her voice.

Black mommas black people love them.