Honoring Black Women

part one

Last week I got on IG Live because I wanted to start unpacking the connections between what happened to Sonya Massey and the everyday experiences of being a Black woman in America. That live lasted about 30 minutes. So I thought Id offer you all the transcript, so you can ponder it and engage with me here. Because it's long, I'm going to break it up into 3 posts, and really give us a chance to unpack the lack of safety for Black women.

Here's part one, please know this has been heavily edited for clarity, cohesion and a smooth reading experience for all of you.

Hi Friends, I really want to talk about Sonia Massey.

First, I want to say to her family how exceptionally sorry that I am, not only because of her life being taken, but also because of the resulting turmoil, the confusion, the withholding of information. All of you who have lost someone, especially if it was violent, already know what that grief is like. Now imagine that you have to figure out the details of what happened, and the details are so murky that you have to dig for the information about who was involved, and you have to wait for camera evidence, and you have to find a lawyer to go suss out the truth.  I just want to first say that I wish that there will soon be days of peace for her family, that there will be a peace that passes understanding, a peace that this world cannot touch. I pray for (this sound really churchy) but for signs and wonders of their love for her and her love for them. That, there is a deep knowing of their connection. (Amen)

Beyond that, I am really gonna try not to talk about the literal step-by-step circumstances, because there are so many that are like, what the f***, you know? The decisions that deputies made are so senseless. They're so senseless. She called for help. You all were about to leave. Why did you come back in? You told her to go get the pot. If you was worried about it, why didn't you go get the pot? If she still seemed nervous to you, then why not have her call someone to come sit with her? Why not just wait with her? The complete lack of care for her, I could talk about for a long time.

But there's a specific moment that I want to talk about, like, inside of those events, and that is how fast it went from help to suspicion. I mean, I watched that video a couple of times because I was trying to figure out when was the moment... at what point did she say or do something that turned her from the person who needed help into someone suspicious- someone who's home you needed to inspect with a flashlight, someone whose identification you needed to review.

Because I cannot imagine how confused she was in that moment when an officer asked her for her ID, and as she was shuffling around for it, he's asking her questions. At one point he asks about her last name and when she hesitates or is flustered, he says to her, "most people dont have trouble remembering their last name." It's so antagonistic and so unnecessary and so suspicious. I bet her heart was racing. I bet her mind was racing. She must have felt so disoriented and turned around.

And I just want to affirm, for any of the black women listening that I know you know what that's like.

I know that you have been in front of people who offered their help, who said that they were going to be there for you, who were supposed to be assuring you of your safety, and before you knew it, everything was your fault, and you were the suspicious one, and you were the aggressive one.

And it is so frustrating. Let me tell you about the last time that this happened to me. Last summer we were having work done in our backyard, and we hired a Black company to do the work. My next door neighbor decided that she needed to be in our business, and started taking photos of the men as they were working. (I assume she sent them to our homeowners association). But she was so conspicuous that the men almost left our home because she was making them so uncomfortable, watching them.

We had to assure them that we got all the necessary approvals, that we would protect them, and that they needn't worry about her. Eventually she did disappear.... until that evening.

Around 6pm she rang our doorbell, and she as sweetly as she could, pretended to offer us some help. She handed us some packages and said, "Hey, I see these on your porch and just thought Id personally hand them to you."

Now, because the guys told us about her taking pictures, we knew not to trust this "helpfulness". But had we not known, we might have thought she was actually being neighborly!

As soon as we had our packages in our hands, she switched her attitude up real fast. And suddenly had all these questions about the work being done. And wouldn't you know it, she revealed all kinds of information about herself and what she thought of us. By the end of the "conversation" she had admitted that she assumed we were just reacting, and not the actual homeowners. She also thought that we were trying to sneakily put a swimming pool in our backyard. And Im sure if I contacted the homeowners association, they would tell me that they received a message from her about what she suspected we were up to.

Suspicion under the guise of helpfulness.

Now because I had my husband and other supportive neighbors on the street, I wasnt too scared of her in this specific situation. But my lord. She certainly could've escalated it by calling the police. I wasnt scared, but she could have made it scary.

And there are plenty of other examples in which I really thought my supervisor or co-worker or pastor (or lets be honest) friend- had offered help and before I knew it- I was the one who was at fault and needed to prove myself. Its a terrible, terrible feeling.

And I know so many Black women who desperately wish for a place to be vulnerable and not have the tables turned on them. it's so hard for us to say:

I need help.

I need you to believe me.

I dont feel safe; can you be in this with me?

Can you help me?

 And after displaying that level of vulnerability, suddenly be the one under suspicion. It's so disorienting. That's the word that I want to use.

It is so disorienting, and I hate that Sonia experienced it with police officers or deputies or whatever they were. It is just so frustrating how rarely our vulnerability isn't believed.

May Black women find safety. May we be able to be fully human even with our disabilities, our fears, our dreams, and our needs. May we learn to believe Black women and honor their innate dignity.