By all accounts, Brown was One Of The Good Ones. But laying all this out, explaining all the ways in which he didn’t deserve to die like a dog in the street, is in itself disgraceful. Arguing whether Brown was a good kid or not is functionally arguing over whether he specifically deserved to die, a way of acknowledging that some black men ought to be executed.
To even acknowledge this line of debate is to start a larger argument about the worth, the very personhood, of a black man in America. It’s to engage in a cost-benefit analysis, weigh probabilities, and gauge the precise odds that Brown’s life was worth nothing against the threat he posed to the life of the man who killed him. It’s to deny that there are structural reasons why Brown was shot dead while James Eagan Holmes—who on July 20, 2012, walked into a movie theater and fired rounds into an audience, killing 12 and wounding 70 more—was taken alive.
Three years ago I believed whites and blacks were equal in the United States. I believed that slavery was abolished and racism went both ways. I disagreed with affirmative action and I thought black people who didn’t make it out didn’t want to make it out.
For almost a month, my friend had random pains, bruises started showing up randomly. He looked ashen and what we first thought was him being lazy was actually him not having any energy.
Finally his girlfriend got him to agree to go to the doctor… who sent him to the ER, where it took several doctors to figure out what was wrong, either because none of them had actually seen it in real life before, or they didn’t think someone could be that stupid.
Quote the doctor: “You have scurvy. Eat a fucking orange.”