Black People are Going to Forgive Ourselves Into Extinction | Botham's Family Forgiving Amber G
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Son of Baldwin
There is no commodity in America, perhaps on Earth, more sought after by ofays than Black people's forgiveness.
Like fiends, they need it to escape a reality that is too much for them to bear; a self-medication. For they are debilitated by the idea that they have, perhaps, a great abundance to atone for and that atonement may indeed take on the form of reversal of fortune. Or vengeance.
The public receipt of Black absolution isn't a permanent reprieve, but it does provide a momentary euphoria--a brief utopian wonderland into which they can retreat; where they never have to be held accountable for their sins so long as Uncle Tom and Mammy are there to open their arms, embrace them, and rock their souls gently like the bosom of Abraham.
To ensure a steady supply of this product, they, ofays, have invented a particular brand of "Christianity," which Black people believe unto death is our inheritance--a death we greet warmly because we believe White Jesus shall usher us into the pearly white gates of forevermore; his own forgiveness unlimited and infinite such that his own father let him be tortured and murdered to prove it. So we ponder: How can we be nothing but him?
We figured out our own way:
Our grandparents murdered in cold blood. And our parents. And our children. And our friends. And rather than rend the whole place to shreds, we sing a hymn. And we smile.
And we bow.
And we grace.
And we bake shortening bread.
And we shuck.
And we jive.
And we kumbaya.
And maybe we stay alive.
And maybe not.
But still, we pat their backs.
And we fix up their hair.
And we hold them tight so they might know: Spare us. Us means you no type of harm. No'm. No suh. God be with ye.
And we say "Thank you colonizer and god for slavery, for it gave us the Christ. And the meek shall, and the meek shall, and the meek shall...."
Shall tend to needs of jackals before they heal their own hearts--which would be futile to do afterwards in any case as it lays beating inside the mouths of jackals.
It is never each other we forgive. For each other, we only have gnashing of teeth, warranted or unwarranted. For them, however, the only teeth we show from a happy face--aware, or maybe not, of the thick ruby lipstick and the burnt cork adorning it.
Image description: Left: Judge Tammy Kemp hugs Amber Gugyer. Text reads: "After Brandt Jean tells Amber Guyger "I forgive you. Go to God...I don't even want you to go to jail because that's what Botham would want. Judge Tammy Kemp then hugs Amber Guyger. Almost everyone was crying in that courtroom."
Right: Brandt Jean hugs Amber Kemp.
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