My thoughts below are a re-post from Facebook.
The last couple of days have been hard for a lot of people. The death of Alton Sterling at the hands of Baton Rouge police officers has once again ripped off a scab on a deep, deep wound. And for Hannah and I, this hit very close to home. Our son, who is Black, was born in Baton Rouge. He still has family in Baton Rouge. Our hearts are heavy.
I struggled for most of the day with what to say, if anything.
We don’t know all the facts concerning the situation, so I wouldn’t begin to assume. I do know one thing though, after seeing the video, I don’t see how anyone can simply shrug their shoulders and be OK with how Mr. Sterling was treated.
I realize that there are many, many honorable police officers. Not all are bad. I realize they have a very hard job and I’m grateful for their service to our communities. But for the Black community, these type of occurrences are all too repetitive. And it’s statistically proven that Black men are 50% more likely to be shot and killed by police than those of other races.
Why is that ? (rhetorical question)
Unfortunately, it seems one can not focus on the lives of Black people without receiving some form of rebuttal (which typically includes “All Lives Matter”). Or, one can not say “Black Lives Matter” without being labeled a police hater or a flaming liberal.
Since when did standing up for life become a hate crime?
If you were attending a funeral of a man who left behind wife and kids, would you walk up to the widow and say “All lives matter. So you should get over it because your husband isn’t the only one who has died today.”?
No. You would grieve with her.
And to a friend who just found out she has breast cancer, would you walk up to her and say “Breast cancer isn’t the only cancer. Your struggle isn’t that big of a deal. There are other people dying from cancer too. We shouldn’t just focus on breast cancer.”?
No. You would care for her. Encourage her. And see her to victory over breast cancer.
So in this situation a segment of our society, a portion of the human race, my son’s city of birth, brothers and sisters in Christ, are grieving the loss of a human being.
A human being.
A man created in the image of God.
Whom Jesus died for.
And loved so dearly.
My son, who is Black, was born in Baton Rouge. Does his life matter?