Just Put Your Hands Up Son

Being black has no age limits, because in the eyes of others being black at any age is a threat. So while other children your age, Kannen, may have the luxury to tell the police officer “it’s just a toy” or “let me reach in my pocket” you do not son.

When approached by a white cop or a white person who feels threatened by your presence just put your hands up.
Do not retaliate in anger because you are being treated less than what you deserve, just put your hands up.
Do not talk back as if you have rights, just put your hands up.
You may want to try and reason with them since you are a human being like everyone else, but please son just put your hands up.
You feel the urge to run as a deadly weapon is pointed at you when you know you’ve done nothing wrong, don’t run son because that just gives them an excuse to kill you, so even though you are terrified please just put your hands up.
We can be outraged tomorrow but tonight I need you to survive and come back home to me, so please son just put your hands up.

What a sad world we live in where these are the type of talks we have to sit down and give our black children. I am outraged that our black men, our black boys, our black people continue to be treated as if we are worth absolutely nothing.

Seriously, take a minute and think to yourself about someone you love dearly and picture them in their last moments crying out for help, screaming for air that is being stolen from them as the weight of a cop is pressing down on their neck. Picture your loved one wanting nothing more than to just survive so that they could hug you tighter but instead because of their color, their life wasn’t given a second thought. I mean can you imagine?


Mistakes In Minnesota

Where do I start

More importantly what do I say

How do I communicate things that have been said over and over

How do I make my words hold enough weight so that the corrupt will finally crumble

I cannot be my brothers keeper when I am continuously robbed of the chance to keep him

What is it in my melanin that threatens you

Am I only shade that wakes your sleeping fears

Because it seems Mistakes In Minnesota only come in Black

And as much as I fear that speaking on these attacks

Will put a big target on my back

I refuse to remain angry in silence

Killing our Black people for simply being Black People

And yet we are deemed the ones who are violent

Not everyone will grasp the concept of my anger

Just know that when you question why you haven’t

drawn blood from your body even though

you keep tripping over the reality of Black people

It is because your privilege continues to catch and protect you

Know that the exact same reason you are allowed

To walk in any direction you desire without your body taking on fire

Is the same reason I must walk a straight line

Does no one see the problem in freedom being their right

But being labeled Black and dangerous is mine

And if the only time you think to say my name

Is after my blood has been shed among the streets

I rather you not say it at all

My rise to fame will not be the way I died

My skin color will never be my downfall

I keep a sticky note close to my door

And it reads, “we will return home”

Its more of a request rather than a statement

And every time I state those words

I hope it falls onto the compass of the angel

Chosen to guide us back home that day…