I love being a wife. A mom. A woman. I love being a Black woman. I love law enforcement. I met my husband while we both were working in corrections. These days, it’s hard being a Black woman married to a Black man who is also blue, raising Black boys into Black men in a society where our men seem to have more of a target on their backs now than when we were fighting for the rights and freedoms we supposedly now have. Being black and blue in America right now is difficult and confusing. If I speak out against the injustices in our community, then somehow that means I have no respect for law enforcement. But if I speak for the law enforcement community that I love and worked in and am still a part of, then somehow that means I’m not standing against the reckless and repulsive slaughter of my people. Neither is true.
Image: TomasRockyHorror via Pixabay
It is in fact possible to respect and appreciate law enforcement and understand that not all cops show up on shift with the same agenda while also being emotionally exhausted about these tragic deaths and fearful for the future of my children all at the same time. My grief for the loss of life in the law enforcement community doesn’t make me any less of a Black woman and mother just like the melanin that I possess doesn’t automatically make me a threat against law enforcement.
I am proud to be a Black woman. I mourn the senseless loss of life in the Black community at the hands of law enforcement officials. I respect law enforcement and I mourn the senseless loss of life in the law enforcement community at the hands of angry radicals unaware or unconcerned that more hate and more death are not the answers that we all seek.
I am a Black woman who is also blue. I cry for the families who have lost loved ones – both Black and blue alike. I pray for my husband, his co-workers, and our friends for their safe return home to their families at the end of every shift. I’m angry. I’m nervous. I’m in love. I’m in fear. I bear frustration. I live in happiness. I crave change. I fear death. I desire the same thing that every other wife and mother of every other color and nationality does: happy and healthy children raised in peace and love by both parents who silently pray together for happily ever after for our families and our communities. It just so happens that I belong to both communities that are on opposite sides of the same issues right now, and for me, that is heartbreaking. How do you teach your sons to be cautious of the men and women wearing the same uniform as the hero that tucks them into bed at night? How do you tell your daughter to stand up for herself and her friends and fight injustice when the injustice in the system is clothed in the same garb as her first love? How do you pray the same prayer over your husband’s return home, whether he’s wearing jeans or Kevlar because someone may take his life just because of the color of his skin or the color of his uniform?
With tears streaming down my face, I write this. With tears streaming down my face, I pray. With tears streaming down my face, I mourn. With tears streaming down my face, I’m angered and confused, and lost, and emotionally exhausted. Please don’t tell me that my frustrations are unfounded. Don’t tell me that my fears are unfounded. Don’t disrespect or disregard my opinion or my stance simply because I have a loyalty to both of the communities that are being affected. Don’t question that loyalty because I respect both the color of my husband’s skin and the color of the uniform that he dons on a daily basis. Do not, with the same mouth that you scream, “all black people are NOT criminals,” say that all cops are evil. A large percentage of them are fully committed to protecting and serving the same communities that fear, hate, and are waging war on them. If you pray for your husband to come home at night because you love him and want your children to have their father around, understand and respect that I pray the same prayer.
Black Lives Matter, but Blue Lives matter too…
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