Black Lives Don’t Matter to You
You can Stop Pretending
First things first. Let’s clarify who “You” is. You are most white people, and many white-adjacent, fair-skinned, “used-to-be-brown-until-the-Republicans-courted-you,” and “people of color” who are not explicitly brown or black.
You say “All Lives Matter” because you cannot bring yourself to mouth, much less believe, that “Black Lives Matter.” This supposed inclusivity is actually the silent whistle used to deny the special challenges that black and deeply-brown people face while you pretend that all people are valued equally. You can stop pretending. We knew better then, and we know better now.
WORDS AND DEEDS
What better evidence do we need to prove this claim than American History itself? As punishment for running away from indentured servitude in 1640 Virginia, three servants were given punishments of 30 lashes, had their terms of servitude extended by one year, and had to serve the Virginia Colony for three additional years. Well, two out of three received that sentence. The two white indentured servants received the 30 lashes and the additional years.
The black servant, John Punch, received the 30 lashes and had his term of indenture extended thus: to “…serve his said master or his assigns for the time of his natural Life here or elsewhere.” (PBS; Africans in America) This incident is considered by some the first record of lifelong servitude assigned by race. Read closely. Punch was not only the slave of his “master,” but also of his “assigns,” and this sentence was in force no matter where he might live. I wonder if “elsewhere” also applied to Heaven. Clearly, John Punch’s integrity as a person was not equal to those of the white servants. His black life didn’t matter except as a perpetual object of property and forced labor.
Not yet codified in law, black slavery, as a custom in Virginia, was expressed in other documents.
“In a 1646 contract, Francis Potts sold a black woman and child to Stephen Carlton, ‘to the use of him forever.’ Another deed records William Whittington’s sale of a girl merely 10 years old; looking to the future he noted that she was sold along with any issue (children) she might produce for her and her children’s “lifetime and their successors forever.” (The Washington Post, May 21, 1978)
Blacks were considered to be goods worthy of sale, not only for the terms of their own lives, but also for the lives of their children, and their successors forever. This was not the case for those with white skin. Black lives didn’t matter.
I don’t need to illuminate every word, document, or deed that marked the twisted progress of slavery in the colonies and the states. I only need to remind you that the difference between slavery and freedom was reduced to black and white. Black lives had commercial value, value in reproducing more property, and value as more political representation for Southerners, but they did not have equality under the law or in the eyes of white society, no matter its class.
The black lives we live today are obviously better than our lives during the eternal imprisonment of slavery or the terror of Jim Crow, but most of white society tells us, in what they believe are polite ways, that not only are we not considered equal, but we are also not worth considering in general. May I share?
Recently, when following a discussion on Disney’s live action Little Mermaid, where many black commenters stated how much representation meant to children of color, a white woman wrote “It’s really not important for those who aren’t children of color.” We are still segregated. Decades of racist housing policies have segregated us physically, and the prohibitive costs of access to leisure and culture have segregated us from inclusion in much of popular culture. If white folks aren’t centered, then whatever the venue is, it’s “not important.” White representations are presumed to be “universal.” Black representations are not “important” unless you are black. We don’t matter.
I read another comment on another venue, and the writer was ridiculing “Black Lives Matter” signs found in white neighborhoods. “Why,” the querier asked, “would you have a ‘Black Lives Matter’ sign in a neighborhood with no black people?” I spun that question in my head the way a skater twirls in competition. No matter which way I spun it, I could not make it make sense. If there are no black people to whom to address it, then you don’t have to say that black lives matter. The thought underneath? You don’t have to believe it, and you believe that other white people don’t have to believe it. Therefore, a virtuous yard sign is both unnecessary, and worse, unwelcome. White people should not have to be confronted with ideas of no matter to them about people who are of no matter to them.
“This is Jeopardy!” are three words that bring joy into the daily lives of many t.v. viewers and near-nirvana in the lives of nerds. However, watch any episode that features the category “Black Anything,” and every buzzer remains silent. Wonks who memorize the 83 moons of Saturn before their morning coffee can’t name Justice Ketanji Brown-Jackson. If one is the loneliest number, then “Black” is the loneliest category. Even the people who know everything about everything don’t know about us. Our presence, our accomplishments, and our lives don’t matter, even though they are part of everyone’s American history.
Our value is beyond being bodies to be exploited for labor.
Our value is beyond being singers and dancers to entertain.
Our value is beyond being skin-color gimmicks in show business.
Our value is beyond being symbols for crime.
Our value is beyond being a synonym for “less than.”
Our value is beyond being valued only by other black people.
Our value is beyond your desire to ignore us.
Our value will be acknowledged.
Black Lives Matter. If you believe it, then act it out. If you don’t believe, then don’t bother to pretend. We already know who you are.
As always, thanks for reading.
