After watching the documentary 13th, these are my afterthoughts…
The 13th Amendment: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”
“It’s not the brutality that’s changed over time”…
They found the loophole. They found their saving grace.
They found a way to create the new Jim Crow Laws, to mask the identity of the lynchers, the abusers, the killers.
The system’s been reshaped, redesigned, reformed, renewed, restored to its former glory!
Hardly even recognizable.
They found it.
Gone are the days of wearing all-white dresses, masking their guiltless faces with the crystal veil, separating them from the ones they deem unclean and unworthy. Their hats pointing high to God who they call upon to grant them the keys to the kingdom.
This time, they look us in the eye. This time, they are camouflaged. They’re with us. They’re our own neighbors, our own friends. We welcome them into our homes with open arms and open hearts, even though the gun is cocked right to our heads. Plain sight.
We entrust our lives with them, hoping that they will keep us safe. We hope that they will keep the evil guys away. And even though we watch them as they pull our kids from our laps and throw our very sons and daughters to the ground, we continue to pour more of ourselves into them and allow them to feed off of our tears, our sorrows.
We watch in unblinking awe and beautiful terror as they pull the trigger on our youth, sealing their fate. They take away our children’s freedom in order to protect their own, yet we smile to our protectors through the bloodshot and tired eyes, and applaud them on a job well done.
The devil is gone, and we are safe.
They are keeping the evils away. Oh, the irony.
Oh, how glorious it must feel to keep slavery alive! To reminisce over old days and old ways of oppression.
The stubbornness of a country to bring back their “glory days” and the “good ol’ times” when they were the superior race and only their life mattered.
How lovely the feeling of being on top at the suffering and expense of the bottom.
Let’s not call it slavery. Let’s call it mass incarceration.
Dehumanize the competition, annihilate the race little by little, as to do it without the mass even noticing it.
Shove them into cubicles unfit for even a rabbit. Feed them the crumbs. Clothe them with rags. Forget about their health!
Put them to work. Punishment is hard labor, but make a profit out of it. Let them call it… community service.
But let’s not stop there.
Get them from the root of their home. Tackle the whole family. After all, 1 in 3 African-American men in America will find their way home to the big house.
And the stereotype will live on. “Black children don’t have dads.” “Black families have the highest rates of divorce and separation.”
The education system has already given up on them. Prisons started building cells based off of elementary school standardized testing scores. Hell, their school already believed that they would not amount to much, so why should they believe in themselves?
Just like Trump said, “Get ’em outta here!” Who needs them, right?
After all, the American dream was only dreamt in one color.
They’ll make a fortune out of this business. They’ll bring back the “glory days” and “good ol’ times”.
They’ll restore peace and happiness, Oh yes!
They’ll make America great again.