Black Girls Deserve Better: Justice for Ma'Khia Bryant
Content Warning: Police violence, Police killing, Anti-Black violence, Misogynoir.
A word to locate myself, before I begin: This message is not artful. It is not poetry. It is a reflection of a deep well of grief. I am grateful for an organization that reminds me I don’t have to be articulate all the time, and that I don’t owe anyone a response. I am grateful for the community leaders, and black radicals who remind me that we don’t get cookies for hot takes, and my care is a priority for our work toward liberation. I am grateful for a personal practice that allows me to hold space for trauma, which presses me to stay hypervigilant, aware of *all the violence,* and my healing, which quietly reminds that no one can see it all– or hold it all–alone, and survive.
A week ago, George Floyd’s killer was found guilty of all three counts against him. We know that a conviction is no reason to trust this system, and does not equate justice. We know that this system will dispose of people–even its own agents– to protect itself. We know that while we may have breathed together in some semblance of relief, that we would have to prepare ourselves for more loss.
A week ago, we read the words “guilty on all counts” and took a breath, where our siblings could not. As I always do, I tried to touch joy. I spent an hour or so resourcing myself with imaginings of what a world without police looks like, supporting our Youth Action Council as they planned a spring teach-in and celebration. Our beloved students, young women and trans youth, ages 14-18, were sharing cautious relief, surprise and gratitude at the verdict…and in the same breath minimizing their own celebration with phrases like “we’ve still got work to do.”
Shortly after our meeting, we learned of the killing of 16-year old Ma’Khia Bryant. When less than 8% of killings by police result in legal action, let alone conviction, a trial that was supposed to set the stage for accountability was punctuated by a series of violent police killings of Black and Brown Youth. We had no time to grieve Daunte Wright, or Adam Toledo, or Anthony Thompson, and Ma’Khia’s life ended minute before the jury issued their verdict.
The proximity to the YAC meeting threw the depth of this tragedy into relief, my love and admiration for black girls and trans youth ringing in me after those meetings. How, within minutes of the verdict, could my beloved youth mentors revert back to “am I next?”
I have been watching Ma’Khia’s 8 tik-tok videos, conditioning my own hair as I cry into the mirror. Admiring the myriad butterfly clips in her bun, something I admire, but never would’ve dared as an awkward black middle schooler. At 33, I look up to her.
Black Girls are always inventing new worlds, where they feel free and full, and everyone else is always a step behind. Our culture commodifies and extracts their music, dance, fashion, slang, and spirit on the daily, but their genius, beauty and power is limitless. How they transcend the limitations imposed on them by white supremacy is literally miraculous.
At GRP, the center of our work is the joy, leadership and imagination of young people, especially Black Girls. We aspire to create sacred spaces where Black girls are celebrated for all of their magic and fullness, where their resilience is not a requirement, where the frustration or overwhelm is answered with punishment. Where we hold ourselves accountable for the ways our society continuously lets them down, or pushes them out. We build in this spirit throughout our programs, and then take to the streets to build out a world that loves black girls more than it loves to consume them.
Ma’Khia was a young Black Girl who, like all black girls, deserved better. She could’ve been a camper in our programs. She would’ve lit up the room. She was in distress. She was threatened for days in an escalating conflict. At the time of her death, she was unable to protect herself, and was therefore unable to protect others. She needed help. When the danger of the circumstances outweighed the fear instilled in her; she reached out to police. She was shot four times in the chest.
These truths do not exist in a vacuum. Let us be clear:
We don’t accept the excuse that police “have to make hard split second decisions to save lives,” when white men and boys who murder in cold blood leave the scene unscathed, and Black girls who call for help are lost to us.
We don’t accept the excuse that Ma’Kiah’s killing was justified, or that she was guilty of any contribution that caused the officer to shoot, when the layers of violence and dehumanization of black girls are on full display in this video, and our wider world.
We don’t accept that, while *sometimes* we see accountability for our Brothers like George Floyd, we are still waiting on accountability for black women and girls like Breonna Taylor, Aiyanna Stanley Jones, Sandra Bland, and so many others.
We don’t accept that the only options for Black and Brown people in distress, despair– or imminent danger– are death at the hands of police.
We KNOW another world is possible because of the limitless creativity and solutionary spirit of BIPOC women and trans folkS.
We know we are the result of the love and survival of Black Women and Women of Color... not the protection of police.
Black Girls Deserve Better. BIPOC Youth Deserve better.
We shouldn’t have to scrape and plead for the resources we need to support the most precious and vulnerable people in our city, and we shouldn‘t have to spend another second mourning while we watch stolen resources poured down the drain at the bottom of a police budget that has
Never.
Kept.
Us.
Safe.
Justice is uninterrupted girlhood (boyhood, childhood)! Justice is a full and joyful life.
Justice is a world where Black and Brown children survive their mistakes, their fear, and their not-knowing.
Policing, as an institution, was designed to drag Black Women backward, into bondage, and separation, and death. It is a hungry ghost.
Black Girls are the embodiment of life. We choose them. We choose forward.
We choose abolition, in our lifetime.
Our staff is devastated by this endless mourning, and the pressure to have some eloquent response only compounds the violence. The waves are crashing all around us, beating us back, stinging our eyes; any expectation that we will take on more saltwater by opening our mouths to explain how the ocean works...is dehumanizing. We’re confused, furious, overwhelmed, terrified. We will need time to process our grief, so we may be quiet here.
In the meantime, we encourage you as always to lean on community, support and resource Black and Brown communities and Mutual Aid efforts, to deepen your political and local community education, and to add your voice to the calls to defund the PPD, and Fund Black Futures in Philly. We also encourage you to give generously to Decarcerate PA and Philly Community Bail Fund’s #FreeBlackMamas fundraiser, recognizing the impact of police violence on all Black women, Trans folks and Black Caregivers.
We owe our liberation to Black Women. We owe it to you, Ma’Khia.
We wish you peace, sweet girl. We will never stop fighting, dreaming and building for you.
