We
need to talk about
Diamond
Reynolds.
Diamond Reynolds is my hero, and she should be yours too. She is
every black woman, and she spoke truth to power this past week, for
the whole world to see.
If
you don’t know who she is, I speak of the black woman in Falcon
Heights, Minnesota, who livestreamed the aftermath of the
shooting
death
of her boyfriend, Philando Castile. And she did it while in the car,
with the police officer who just pumped four bullets into her man’s
body pointing the same gun to her face, with her 4-year-old daughter
sitting in the backseat the whole time.
What
this woman endured is unbelievable. And the bravery that Diamond
Reynolds displayed was praiseworthy. She managed to remain calm, cool
and collected in the face of a nervous cop who could have killed her
and her daughter the way that he killed Mr. Castile, a man who simply
complied with authority, announced he had a weapon and was licensed
to carry it, and was about to present his license and registration.
Even-keeled and professional, Diamond Reynolds should have been the
cop that day, because she saved two lives. I would challenge you to
find a better police officer, or negotiator, or investigator than
this woman, or anything she put her mind to.
“He
let the officer know that he had a firearm and he was reaching for
his wallet and the officer just shot him in his arm,” Reynolds
said during the ordeal. “Please don’t tell me this, Lord.
Please, Jesus, don’t tell me that he’s gone,” she
said. “Please, officer, don’t tell me that you just did
this to him. You shot four bullets into him, sir. He was just getting
his license and registration, sir.”
Remarkable,
yes. And yet, we know women like this, as we have known them
throughout our history. Diamond Reynolds should remind us of the
women who survived the trauma of the slave ship dungeons of the
Middle Passage. Or
Harriet
Tubman,
who escaped slavery and returned as an abolitionist to take hundreds
back with her on the Underground Railroad to freedom. And as if to
outdo even herself, Tubman became an armed scout and a spy for the
Union Army.
I’m
thinking of Fannie Lou Hamer of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic
Party, who was “sick and tired of being sick and tired”
and made a seat for herself at the
1964
Democratic National Convention.
“Is this America, the land of the free and the home of the
brave, where we have to sleep with our telephones off of the hooks
because our lives be threatened daily, because we want to live as
decent human beings, in America?” she asked. Barbara
Jordan,
who as president pro tempore of the Texas Senate became the first
black woman to preside over a legislative body in America, and the
first black Congresswoman from the Deep South. And let’s not
forget
Shirley
Chisolm,
the first black woman in Congress, the first African-American to run
for president in a major party, and one of the founders of the
Congressional Black Caucus.
There
were the countless black women, strong women who kept the family
together, who made something out of nothing. They were the backbone
of the family, providing strength and protection to black
men
and
believing in them when the brothers couldn’t muster the
fortitude to believe in themselves.
Further,
black women such as Diamond Reynolds are
early
adopters of new technology
and
communications
tools,
using social
media
such
as Twitter to communicate and beat the drum in completely innovative
ways. We have seen this with the sisters who founded the
#BlackLivesMatter
movement,
creating a movement from a hashtag.
Since
mainstream media will likely never give Diamond Reynolds her props,
it is necessary we honor her. She comes from a long line of strong,
brave and innovative black women, and we must be thankful for what
these sisters have done for their community and their men. She’s
further proof that
#BlackGirlMagic
exists
even in tragic moments.
This commentary originally appeared in The Grio
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