Amir Locke
The news of Amir Locke’s murder by police hit me like a ton of bricks. I have grown tired and weary of seeing another young Black man taking from us too soon. I have grown tired and weary of debates on if or if not extrajudicial killings by the state are justified. I have grown tired and weary of the character assassinations that have become common for every victim of color. It is hard for people to understand the struggles of people of color trying to survive in places under policed and over-policed at the same time. Places where the lack of investments have left our communities hollowed out and have robbed the dreams of Black and Latino youth. Places where a gun is the only means of survival. These are no places for someone to thrive, yet we have people living in communities like these. I write this because we deserve better and need to demand better. I read a poem I want to share.
Old Lem
By Sterling Brown
I talked to old Lem
and old Lem said:
“They weigh the cotton
They store the corn
We only good enough
To work the rows;
They run the commissary
They keep the books
We gotta be grateful
For being cheated;
Whippersnapper clerks
Call us out of our name
We got to say mister
To spindling boys
They make our figgers
Turn somersets
We buck in the middle
Say, “Thankyuh, sah.”
They don’t come by ones
They don’t come by twos
But they come by tens.
“They got the judges
They got the lawyers
They got the jury-rolls
They got the law
They don’t come by ones
They got the sheriffs
They got the deputies
They don’t come by twos
They got the shotguns
They got the rope
We git the justice
In the end
And they come by tens.
“Their fists stay closed
Their eyes look straight
Our hands stay open
Our eyes must fall
They don’t come by ones
They got the manhood
They got the courage
They don’t come by twos
We got to slink around
Hangtailed hounds.
They burn us when we dogs
They burn us when we men
They come by tens . . .
“I had a buddy
Six foot of man
Muscled up perfect
Game to the heart
They don’t come by ones
Outworked and outfought
Any man or two men
They don’t come by twos
He spoke out of turn
At the commissary
They gave him a day
To git out the county
He didn’t take it.
He said ‘Come and get me.’
They came and got him
And they came by tens.
He stayed in the county —
He lays there dead.
They don’t come by ones
They don’t come by twos
But they come by tens.”
I read that poem earlier as I thought of Amir’s murder the laws, the judges, the sheriffs, the juries they all work for us now, and this must stop. It is no longer enough to focus on policing alone; we have to deal with the root causes we have to reinvest in our communities. That was the point of the Defund movement shifting police budget to schools, jobs/skills training, and other investments in human capital years of protests, have helped forward progress but we seem to be stuck. We must vote out the judges, change the laws, hold the sheriffs accountable. But we also all need to look within ourselves we must do better. We have to take pride in our communities and ourselves we have to build a community where dreams and families can grow. We have to demand the same resources and care in our communities as all other communities by voting, serving on juries, being a part of our communities, become an activist we can not keep letting this happen in our communities to us or anywhere to anyone.
