A Return to ‘Normalcy’?

I try not to stay glued to the TV and social media about the day’s events because simply put, I grow weary and have become wary of all of it. The criminalization of Blacks in America and outright police violence and murder of Black men, women, and children has become all too commonplace, some would even say ‘normal.’ Please do not categorize my response as one of complacency; it is not. I’ve simply chosen to focus my efforts on working diligently in small but meaningful ways, and on loving up fiercely on those I believe need my gifts the most, my family and the children of my local and broader communities.

Still, there is no getting around the difficult conversations that we all know we must have. If we are to engage honestly on the topic of the riots in Baltimore attributed to the police killing of Freddie Gray or any matter on civil unrest, we must also be willing to have our perceptions challenged by someone else’s reality. Every situation has a context; therefore, any reporting on a situation without seeking first to understand its context is insincere and futile. So, while reporters express a penchant for ‘normalcy,'” understand that there is nothing normal about a wish to return to normal in America as either side remembers it.

A return to ‘normalcy,’ you say?

What good is normalcy
if I can’t play
in my own garden of Eden too?

Instead
you come ‘roun here
surveying us
like some display
they just pulled from out back
in a museum of your own construction –
surely you knew we were here
would be here
long before now
before we ourselves knew–

trotting along here
like newfangled missionaries
with special microphones
flashy cameras
measured words
calculated questions

crafting observations
for catchy soundbites and news spin
for what will become your story
and stellar reporting
for best coverage awards

You don’t impress me
parading ‘roun here with your lanyards dangling
press badges having
air-conditioned vehicles retreating
like you can’t stand the heat?
Do tell!

Where were you
in our coldest of winters
in our most unbearable of summers
in our everyday,
when the block’s been getting hot
where were you exactly?

‘Normalcy,’ you say?
Child please!

I want normalcy too
the kind without a riot
or reason to riot
without burning buildings
which is now all too normal … to you

I want something beautiful
blooming
something to nurture
and till
and cultivate
and beautify
with good soil
and bountiful crop
with trees tall
and fruitful hope.
Ain’t none of that ‘roun here!

What’s normal ’bout
scant shapeless fields
and abundant weeds,
should you find anything that looks remotely like grass?

What’s normal ’bout
cement cracking
beneath the pressure of fallen bodies
beneath the discolor of faint blood and
ghostly last-breath cries?
You probably walked right over ’em
didn’t even notice.

What’s normal ’bout
empty lots
reserved for renewal
for somebody else
when it’s me needing restoration
now?

What’s normal ’bout
half-erected gardens
abandoned midstream
neglected by some
dismissed by others?

Keep your normalcy … please.