Not Strong Enough For It: Part 2

"R.I.P. Zae" 

It was everywhere. Instagram. Twitter. My inbox. I couldn't escape it. 

I leaped to check the news app on my phone, which was dumb of me cause the shooting happened in Lonsdale and "the cops don't come here" statement flooded my mind almost as loud as I heard it the last time last year. Hours would go by before the WATE or WBIR news stations would provide a measly, "Fatal shooting in Lonsdale" or "Man shot and killed, more to come" Man.  Kid was 15. 

Breathing is hard when I know something is required of me, and I'm not strong enough for it. 

I cringed thinking about our many conversations of, "What happens when it's one of ours on the news... in the street... the new hashtag..." and how it became reality in a matter of moments.  
I cried, no, I sobbed when I started to think about our Falcon boys. A team I learned to support and love this past semester, but more importantly, a dozen of them call me Chlo, and make fun of how I ALWAYS think I got next during their pick up games on Wednesday nights. 

Breathing is hard when I know something is required of me, and I'm not strong enough for it. 

What is my role in this? 
What do you tell kids who just lost their brother/teammate/best friend to gang violence? 
What do you do as a lover of Christ, seeker of social justice, a supporter of the #BlackLivesMatter movement, and someone against violence? 
And dare I join the young voices crying out WHY to a creator I know better than to question...?
I fell asleep in a pool of tears.
I woke up to a short press conference with an emotional police chief, and desperate mayor challenging our Knoxville community to end this thoughtless violence. 

That's when I found out what Zaevion Dobson, a 15 year old sophomore football player at Fulton High School, member of the 100 Black Men chapter here in Knoxville, brother, and son, did last night as he died. 

"Jumped on top of 3 girls to shield them from the bullets." -KPD 

Breathing is hard when I know something is required of me, and I'm not strong enough for it. 

And now I know why the first report of the shooting addressed Zae as a man. 

I don't know of many men who will selflessly jump to save a group of people from harm, or death, not once questioning his own life, let alone a 15 year old boy with a future. 

Brave. Hero. A success story. 

These are all things Zaevion will be called the next couple of days. And then most of the further removed public will turn their heads back to their Christmas festivities, and see this day as another one on the calendar. 

Another black boy dead cause of gangs.

But I will still see his friends everyday. His family in maroon. The ones that used to sit with him in class. And play with him on that field. 

And I am faced with the feeling of not knowing how, or what, to say.

I'm faced with prayers lifted up, texts sent, hugs given, tears wiped, and candle lit vigils for a boy that won't be forgotten in this community. 

A community that knows all to well what this loss feels, looks, an tastes like. 

Many will want revenge. Answers. They will feel a sense of urgency to do something, to take action, and to make a difference.  

So we mourn today. But tomorrow we have work to do.

Breathing is hard when I know something is required of me, and I'm not strong enough for it. 

But sometimes, even when I don't think I can, I have to be... I am. 

Conversations With J

We struggled through some language arts. Because even though we have been speaking English our whole lives, we still aren't at the levels we should be... and I don't blame either one of us... English is dumb sometimes. Words on the other hand, words have power no matter the language. And between the two of us, we could fill the world with words till the end of time, easy. 

We underlined, added commas, and defined what each sentence was. 

"You know I've been acting good lately." - J 

"Yeah! You really have... I'm proud of you." - me

(insert conversation about how the phrase "good things happen to good people" isn't always true... and sometimes good people still suffer before they find joy - shout out to my Hebrews class coming in clutch!) 

"Ms. Chloe people are saying my Momma is poor cause some people are helping her give me presents for Christmas... but that isn't true." - J

(insert conversation of me holding back tears because sometimes kids can be really mean... and telling him that I know a lot of kids that receive presents from a lot of different people... I also know of a lot of kids that don't get anything) 

His work for the next two days was finished because we considered how many pages were in the packet, and knew he had practice tomorrow so he wouldn't do any of it then. This is the sort of problem solving he has been missing out on - sure homework needs to get done at some point, but if you can make him realize what the rest of his week looks like, and allow him to choose to have a day for just basketball?! Well then, what are we doing just sitting around? We have work to do!

-

Now he was pacing back and forth in front of me.  

(insert a story of him telling me how, a boy we both know and love, was getting made fun of during practice, and how he stuck up for him because "they don't know what we know." I remembered how you said that we should care about our friends... even when no one else is." Again... holding back the tears. )

"Chloeeeee. What do I need to do to be better?! Like... I'm talkin' bout what am I missing? Or can work on... like drills? I don't want people to call me lame. I want my game to speak for itself... I don't want to argue no more." - J

I've learned that J and I are similar in the sense that we have to talk our problems out loud... we don't always want people to respond, we just want someone to listen to us, so that we can make sense of it ourselves. But every so often, we want someone to respond, and to give us sound advice that will take us to the next level. A level we couldn't reach on our own. So I spend a lot of time listening to J. I listen to him, I hear him, and every now and then when I know he is looking for a word that has power, I ask God to lead me in the right direction, and provide a perspective he usually hasn't considered yet.

Today was one of those days he really needed someone to listen. 

And I am just thankful that I get to be the one to hear him.