Fight Or Flight

One of the things we perhaps fail to comprehend is that the shooting of POC on the streets means different things to different people.

The author here, Easy G, writes from his perspective as a White American male. An apex creature as it were, in this world in which we live. He too has experienced the unholy fear of being attacked, though not by a police officer.

In this piece, he juxtaposes his attack with the *attack* on persons such as Philando Castile and Charleena Lyles. It's an interesting juxtaposition, one I had not, myself, considered.

Consider for a moment, a whole other perspective.

Read it. Share it.

~Elle~

Protester sign from one of the many anti-police brutality marches
Anytown, USA 2017

Almost two years ago, while my wife and I were walking our dogs, her ex rolled up on us, held a .40 caliber gun to my head, and shot me in the chest and stomach with it. So I can speak to this.

I'm not Black, I haven't spent a lifetime being harassed, bullied, and threatened by cops. But I understand the profound sense of vulnerability and helplessness a person can feel when you're unarmed and have an extremely hostile, volatile person screaming obscenities at you and placing a gun to your head. I understand how instinct suppresses your thoughts and your sensory input.

"Fight or flight" isn't a choice, it's a response. Your vision telescopes, you see only your attacker's face. Your peripheral vision dims and then disappears altogether. Your hearing becomes muted, your attacker's words become unintelligible. "Fight or flight" is a response, not a choice, but with cops you aren't allowed either option.

That people keep their composure with guns pointed at them amazes me. I didn't. I attacked my attacker - not as a calculated choice or as an act of bravery but in a fit of rage. This man with a gun wants to take everything you have and everything you will ever have away from you. Forever. Every memory, every future joy, every relationship, every possession, every good work, every whimsical thought. This rage you feel comes out of nowhere and it's overwhelming. But you can't express it, can't let it show with a flicker in your face or by the quiver in your hand.

The fact that cops consistently shoot people of color who are far more composed and compliant than I was - people who show true courage - is deeply, profoundly frustrating because, among other things, holding a gun in the face of an unarmed person is an act of cowardice, isn't it? Yet time and time again, the brave person dies and the coward gets exonerated.

I can speak to this, yes, but another critical difference, in my situation, is that my shooter was NOT a cop. It was NOT his job to protect me as a citizen, it was NOT his sworn duty to treat me lawfully. Shooting me was NOT, among other things, an act of social betrayal. He owed me nothing. He wasn't sworn to protect or serve. Quite the opposite. Cops, on the other hand, those protect and serve men and women in blue, place innocent, unarmed, compliant Black people in that position of vulnerability and then shoot them anyway. 

It's obscene. It's evil.