On April 28, 2015 my son was attacked by four young men. He struggled home and lay in bed. That is where I found him. On my way home from work I had been alerted to what had happened I got home to find him shivering and incoherent. The simple thing to do, is what I did--call 911. My heart raced, I worried, I feared for him. I did not concern myself about anything else--he was a victim.
The ambulance arrived and so did the police, with hands on their weapons. I watched as the paramedics shook him and seemed to think nothing was wrong--shaking him "Hey man, you don't look bad etc." The police stood back and kept their hands on their weapons, waiting for????
I cannot express the rage, the fear, the horror that came together as I watched the people I had called for help, hell, called for a ride to the hospital both dismissed my son's poor physical condition and viewed him as a physical threat, a danger at the same time. There was a time when I would have reacted to their clearly racist action with a diatribe, I would have asked for names, I would have cursed, screamed...I'm not sure, but I do know I would have reacted, been in reaction, lost to reaction of this blatant racist display. I would have been lost in the history of murder and brutality that shadows the existence of Black people.
That did not happen. I said to them, "I called you for help, not to mistreat my son. You can leave. I have Uber." They stopped the harassment. The police moved back, their hands still on their guns. The paramedics took my son to the Emergency Room. He was diagnosed with a concussion and an orbital fracture.
It took me this long to write about this because I grew up in the shadow of Emmett Till, but I never considered how close my son would come to being another dead young Black man, who if he had seized might have frightened the police into killing him. He lives in Emmet Till's shadow, but in that moment we both escaped because the dharma allowed me to see clearly what was needed...to get to the hospital. Even if we had to take Uber, The historic and present pain, in that moment, did not capture me, and my reaction got my son treatment in a timely manner.
I have felt bludgeoned by the constant reporting on the murder of Black people and the reaction of so much of this society, like those paramedics--dismissing pain, like the police--ready to respond with lethal force. However, on this day, because of the dharma I did not join the delusion of either the paramedics or the police and my son and I survived another day.
In Gassho
