My friend called me this morning.

Me: Hey. How’s it going? (my standard)

Him: I’m angry. I’m just angry.

Of course I knew that he was referring to the shooting of 37 year-old Alton Sterling by 3 police officers (two who held him down and 1 who shot him). I told him that I was jealous of him because I felt helpless. I hate feeling helpless. I am a Type A, “we can fix this, “there is a solution to everything,” type of woman.

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Not this time.

Not after Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, Sean Bell, Eric Garner, Kimani Gray, Tamir Rice, and Freddie Gray. Not after too many minutes of me clinging my hands and silently praying for someone to held accountable for the violent end to another Black life—for all of the devastated mothers, fatherless children, and broken fathers to always essentially be told, “This Black life didn’t matter.”  0 convictions. Zero.  Each time I prayed and I hoped.

"Black Lives Matter" is drawn on the ground in chalk as protesters demonstrate against racism in the "Reclaim MLK" march January 19, 2015 in outside the Ferguson Police Department in Ferguson, Missouri. Critics of police treatment of minority residents in the US took part in various demonstrations across the country coinciding with the observance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, an American federal holiday marking the influential American civil rights leader's birthday. AFP PHOTO / MICHAEL B. THOMAS (Photo credit should read Michael B. Thomas/AFP/Getty Images)

Now I have no hope. And that scares me.  I don’t’ want to be that person.  I can’t let them kill me too.

But while each victim was special and precious, the events following each murder has been identical.

Then the cycle starts all over again. In other words, another Black man will be murdered by a police officer.

Hours after writing this article about Alton Sterling, Philando Castile was shot 4 times and killed by a Minnesota police officer.

PC

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