I was 10 during the riots of ’68. We lived just one town over from Plainfield, NJ, close enough to hear the unrest, the sounds of gunfire, to see the sky lit up from blazing fires. I wedged myself between my bed and the wall each night, wondering when and if rage would cross the bridge, descend into the park and arrive at our cul-de-sac of seven homes, all but one occupied by Black families. Fearful that our homes would be destroyed, not knowing if a bullet might come through the window, night would sometimes turn into a day when sleep depravation silenced my anxiety. Though our block went untouched and life moved on, a part of me never got back in my bed.
In the words of John Lewis, find some “good trouble” to get into; stay safe, stay informed and…
keep your peepers open!
https://solsticelitmag.org/blog/souls-of-black-folks/
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