Downtown Carrollton, Georgia is quiet for a Friday.
It is summer and the suitcase students are gone, for now.
Stopped at the stored. Hurriedly, I pick up essentials after I hear they are closing in 5 minutes.
This local grocery store has not been opened 24 hours for,
"about 3 years ma'am" the cashier tells me, "no one really comes around after 11."
"Oh, that makes sense."
It makes sense because my motive to get dressed to go to this store this late was not for essentials.
My town is silent like most nights around here, around this time.
I circled my town without the radio on, windows down, moon-roof open. I am not afraid,
but I am listening and looking and praying.
I am hoping for Ken Dothard to rest in peace tonight and for his family to hold strong.
I am hoping for Corporal Cook and the CPD to ask for the right help in this crisis.
I see 5 teenage boys riding bikes around town calling out to each other with abandoned
laughter. Sweet summer humid evening with a moon just bright enough to enjoy being
boys. I want every child to have this freedom, like I like to think all kids have in my
little city. Like I thought Trayvon had.
Unrelated? Maybe, but we do not get to call ourselves responsible grown-ups simply because we age.
My fellow adult citizens, we can do better than this. Our children depend on us to be brave.
Pray to let go of any fear that rears the head of confusion and distrust that helped to create this death. Fear always drives humans to harm.
Move away from fear that corrodes and raises voices to yell and hands to strike rather than to ask for help and embrace.
It is summer and the suitcase students are gone, for now.
Stopped at the stored. Hurriedly, I pick up essentials after I hear they are closing in 5 minutes.
This local grocery store has not been opened 24 hours for,
"about 3 years ma'am" the cashier tells me, "no one really comes around after 11."
"Oh, that makes sense."
It makes sense because my motive to get dressed to go to this store this late was not for essentials.
My town is silent like most nights around here, around this time.
I circled my town without the radio on, windows down, moon-roof open. I am not afraid,
but I am listening and looking and praying.
I am hoping for Ken Dothard to rest in peace tonight and for his family to hold strong.
I am hoping for Corporal Cook and the CPD to ask for the right help in this crisis.
I see 5 teenage boys riding bikes around town calling out to each other with abandoned
laughter. Sweet summer humid evening with a moon just bright enough to enjoy being
boys. I want every child to have this freedom, like I like to think all kids have in my
little city. Like I thought Trayvon had.
Unrelated? Maybe, but we do not get to call ourselves responsible grown-ups simply because we age.
My fellow adult citizens, we can do better than this. Our children depend on us to be brave.
Pray to let go of any fear that rears the head of confusion and distrust that helped to create this death. Fear always drives humans to harm.
Move away from fear that corrodes and raises voices to yell and hands to strike rather than to ask for help and embrace.
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