His goodbye like a punch to the chest

Every post I see about Blake Brockington is like a punch in the chest. Young people are a big part of my life and when one of our young takes their own life it reminds me we have so much work to do.  I know what its like to sit with teens who parents just refuse to accept them. I’ve felt the same sting myself. Its a crime to be pushed so deep into sadness and rejection so early in life. For what I gather, as much love as Blake got from the community as prom King he also became a target in the process  then this week at 18 he decided death was better.

As Spring approaches (even though its still snowing out here), The threat of death is in the air here in Chicago.  I worry enough for my youth in the game or just walking the streets catching bullets the thought of one of them committing suicide… I can’t. When I tell people I didn’t think I’d see 25 they seem like they can’t imagine me feeling that way.  His death reminds me the struggle for life is real. Especially for trans youth and black people. A lot of us suffer in silence and from time to time, no too often some decide to just end the struggle on their own terms.

I didn’t know this young man personally but he was one of our youth. He could have been someone I know and the numbers say one day it will be.  His death the thought of someone like him taking their own life is stirring up so much frustration and grief.  If I’m feeling it like this I can only imagine my peeps who knew him.  Sending so much encouragement to his friends and love ones, to youth, to those struggling for life.



No More Pastors

The road to freedom is painted in the bright red blood of the lamb
and paved with the bones of the black church
Grow up
and use your own minds
you know its a fairy tale
stolen twisted Kemetic fable at best
from miracle birth to resurrection
The greatest story of all time
used to enslave bodies and minds.
Globally the chief weapon used to pacify and control.

You want to talk about black liberation.
Lets talk about it.
Lets talk about the church.
Time to admit the damage it’s done
to us all.
NO more excuses
cause you scared to hurt ya grandma’s feelings.
Stop skating the subject
cause its painful to admit.
We’ve been brainwashed
indoctrinated with the poisonous white christ.
Colonized  and spiritually stunted with a cross and a book.

Its ok to say you knew it was bull but you chose to believe anyway
cause thats just what your family does…we go to church
NO more ignoring the obvious cause the music is so good.
The road to freedom is painted in the bright red blood of the lamb
and paved with the bones of the black church
Death to the black church and the hold it has on our minds.

What can kill the need to dull our senses with sunday sermons
Who can null our hunger for fire side chats in respectability.
Wheres the soap to remove the psychologically crippling residue of
centuries of begging and pleading to that big white man in the sky
Where does the unlearning begin?
Who is ready to wade through
generation after generation of remixing, retranslating and remaking myths to mate with our cultures.
How do we cleanse our minds of verse upon verse of
Sexist,European, Judeo Christian Ethics, Capitalism,
and white supremacy wrapped in plagiarized proses?

Can’t we find other excuses to wear
shiny suits, big hats, make great music that celebrates love?
What will turn down that twinkle and wipe the lust for the sweet by and by from your eyes?
Death to the black church
No more gospel moans
making the pill of submission entertaining and easier to swallow
Grow up and use your own minds.


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