The Breaking Point
I woke up this morning to images of flames engulfing the city where I used to live. To videos of cops tear gassing innocent people in the streets. To a story of police arresting a CNN correspondent while the men who murdered George Floyd continued to run free. I wanted to believe that I was still sleeping and would soon wake up from this terrifying nightmare. I am riding a rollercoaster of grief, anger, disbelief, disgust, shame and sadness this week, so forgive me for my rambling and grammatical errors. I think this is a breaking point. For myself. For Minnesota. For our country. I was working on a post in honor of Black History Month in February, but I never published it. I couldn't get it right or really say what I wanted to say, and it ended up sounding like a call to reflect on racism for that month only and then resort back to our old ways, which was the direct opposite of the point I was trying to make. I sti...