Nolan Wells’ death is all over my timeline. I’m seeing mostly Black folks talking about it and saying this is a cautionary tale for why Black parents should side eye these kinds of friendships where their child is “the only Black kid” in white spaces. What looks like acceptance and belonging could end up being a trap.
Fourth of July. Mississippi. An island. Water. A cluster of white boys. One Black boy missing. Nobody bothered to report him missing. That combination of facts lands in the Black imagination with historical weight and triggers our collective nervous system.
Black people are not reacting in a vacuum. We carry a whole archive of similar stories. We know what water has meant. We know what “boys being boys” has covered. We know what “accident” has sometimes been asked to explain. We know how many Black deaths have become official shrugs because the living white witnesses were granted innocence before the dead Black youth was granted humanity.
Now, that does not mean we know what happened here. But it does mean we know why Black folk are suspicious.
It’s being called “one of the most iconic photos of our time,” a future Pulitzer-winning photograph, and “the defining image” of Trump’s America.
Here’s what social commentator and media critic Tommy J. Housman has to say about Cheney Orr’s photo and the reactions it is generating.
Yesterday I posted a photograph of a Black woman sitting alone on a train surrounded by members of Patriot Front, a white nationalist and known hate organization that openly organized, promoted, live-streamed, and later claimed responsibility for the event. The post reached more than 80,000 people, generated over 21,000 engagements, and received more than 3,000 comments. What concerns me is how many people rushed to defend, excuse, minimize, or redirect attention away from an organization whose entire purpose is built around racial nationalism and exclusion. Instead of discussing why groups like this exist, why they are growing, or why Black Americans might find such imagery threatening, many commenters immediately began comparing it to unrelated crimes committed by random black individuals or openly expressing support for the organization itself. Completely ignoring the historical context of hate groups and what hate groups mean to Black people such as enslavement m, imprisonment, beating, rape, and death by lynching. Instead of acknowledging this history, people chose to laugh.
That should alarm every decent person in this country. Black Americans do not view organized groups of masked white nationalists through the lens of abstract political theory. They view them through the lens of slavery, lynching, segregation, racial terror, voter suppression, church bombings, and generations of organized efforts to intimidate and control Black people. What I saw in the comments was not thoughtful disagreement. I saw deflection, whataboutism, historical ignorance, and in some cases outright sympathy for a movement that defines itself through exclusion.
I saw similar reactions across multiple posts discussing the same event. That suggests a deeper problem than a handful of internet trolls. We have reached a point where large numbers of people seem more offended by criticism of a white nationalist organization than by the existence of the organization itself. Real strength is protecting people who are vulnerable. Real courage is standing against intimidation and hatred, not marching anonymously behind masks in a crowd. If thousands of Americans can look at a photograph of organized racial intimidation and see nothing wrong with it – or worse, defend it – we should all be asking ourselves what that says about the state of our country. Almost every comment and Laffey face was from a white man. Cowards.
The mainstream narrative of Juneteenth is built on a benevolent myth: that General Gordon Granger stood on a balcony in Galveston, read General Order No. 3, and Texas enslavers immediately followed the law, peacefully freeing 250,000 enslaved people. This completely erases the high stakes and the military reality.
Texas was the last stronghold of the illegal slave empire. Enslavers had been hiding tens of thousands of Black people from the Emancipation Proclamation for two years, believing they were untouched by the war.
Freedom did not arrive as a friendly announcement. It was enforced through a ruthless military occupation. When Granger landed, a massive percentage of his occupying force was made up of thousands of heavily armed men from the United States Colored Troops (USCT). Texas enslavers did not surrender because they heard a speech. They surrendered because thousands of Black Union soldiers seized control of the city, aimed heavy weapons at their homes, and forced the system to collapse on June 19th 1865.
Rick Chow shot a 14-year-old Cyrus Carmack Belton in the back for water bottles that he never actually stole. Yes, his life was worth less to this man than a bottle of water. A jury in South Carolina acquitted Chow of Cyrus’ murder.
Not even manslaughter?
Although he has shot people in the past, Chow was acquitted and is a free man today. The state of South Carolina also seems to feel that Cyrus’ life was worth less than a bottle of water.
Meanwhile in Texas, 17-year-old Karmelo Anthony was outnumbered and bullied by White teens at a sporting event when one began to shove him. Karmelo stabbed him and, at 19, has been sentenced to 35 years for murder. He will be my age, 54, when released, will spend the next 35 years doing unpaid labor, and will never regain his voting rights. He has been returned to the slavery his ancestors endured. (That is what incarceration is.)
Not even manslaughter?
Our children are not safe in White towns or White spaces. Anti-Blackness in Asian American and Latin American communities makes those folks’ spaces frequently unsafe. This is why I chose to raise my children in Baltimore. The anti-Blackness in the U.S. puts us in far more danger than anything you might’ve seen on The Wire.
The real racial sickness in the Karmelo Anthony and Austin Metcalf case is not just that America reflexively sees Black boys as threats. It is that this country has a profound, almost religious inability to recognize white boys as violent, dangerous, deviant, and frightening despite this country’s long history of evidence.
White boys can be hulking, aggressive, entitled, bullying, reckless, and cruel, and still the culture rushes to soften them into “sons,” “athletes,” “good kids,” “troubled teens,” or “boys who made a mistake.” But let a Black boy say, “Don’t touch me,” and suddenly everybody and their mama becomes fluent in menace, intent, and criminal psychology.
The fact is, America has trained itself to see danger in Black fear and innocence in white violence, and that is why so many people cannot even ask whether Karmelo Anthony was afraid without first deciding he must have been the threat. This is a country that keeps pretending white aggression is not dangerous until somebody Black survives it.
Kyle Rittenhouse crossed state lines with a rifle, killed two people, and went home free.
Karmelo Anthony was scared and defended himself. He faces life in prison.
Cyrus Carmack-Belton was 14 years old, shot in the back while running away. The jury watched it on video. They still said not guilty.
Same country. Same justice system. Completely different outcomes based on the color of their skin.
We are exhausted. We are heartbroken. And some days, if we are being honest, we feel completely hopeless. Because how many verdicts do we have to survive before something changes?
Austin Metcalf should be alive. His parents should not have had to bury their son. No one should treat that loss like a side note. A child died at a high school track meet, and that grief is real. But grief does not mean silence. Austin’s death does not mean we have to ignore what Texas did to Karmelo Anthony.
Karmelo did not ask Texas for special treatment. He asked Texas to apply the same law it claims belongs to everyone. He asked a jury to believe that a Black teenager, surrounded in a tense confrontation, touched after warning someone not to touch him, could be scared enough to defend himself. Texas said no. Texas said his fear did not count enough. His panic did not matter enough. His life in that moment was not worth enough.
That is the rot in this case. Not because every self-defense claim should win. Not because every death can be excused. Not because a knife is harmless. A knife is deadly. A stab wound to the chest is deadly. Karmelo used deadly force. That is not the question. The question is whether Texas gives a Black teenager the same benefit of the doubt it gives other people when they say they were scared.
Had the roles been reversed, this country would not be struggling so hard to understand fear. If a white teenager had warned a Black teenager not to touch him, had been touched anyway, had said he was surrounded and scared, half this country would already be calling him a victim. They would call it tragic. They would call it complicated. They would call it self-defense. But when the scared teenager is Black, suddenly everyone becomes a prosecutor. Suddenly every second has to be perfect. Suddenly fear is no longer fear. It is treated like aggression.
Karmelo was convicted of murder and sentenced to 35 years in prison. He was 17 when this happened. His defense said he was smaller, outnumbered, frightened, and reacting in chaos. Prosecutors said this was not fear. They said it was escalation. They said it was murder. The jury accepted that story. Reporting from the courtroom said no Black jurors were seated, and the defense objected to the prosecution’s strikes of Black prospective jurors. The judge let the panel stand.
Self-defense is not a magic word. You do not say it and walk free. The law asks whether a person reasonably believed force was needed right then to protect himself. Deadly force has an even higher burden. But “reasonable” is where the bias hides. Reasonable to whom? Reasonable when the person afraid is white, armed, older, angry, or standing on property? Reasonable when the person afraid is Black, young, cornered, touched, and already treated like the threat? In America, white fear gets treated like evidence. Black fear gets treated like an excuse.
This country has spent generations treating Black children like adults whenever it wants to punish them. Black kids are children when America wants to lecture them, but adults when America wants to cage them. They are old enough to fear, old enough to blame, old enough to throw away, but somehow never young enough to protect. Black childhood comes with conditions. Black innocence can be taken back at any moment. Black fear is treated like a lie before the child even opens his mouth.
Karmelo was not some monster. By the accounts offered by his family and supporters, he was a student-athlete with a 3.7 GPA, a team captain, the oldest of four, a kid who worked real jobs at Foot Locker and H-E-B, and someone with no prior criminal record. That should not have to be said for his fear to matter. But in a country always hunting for a reason to strip Black children of innocence, it matters that even the “good kid” facts were not enough to make him fully human in that courtroom.
And no, the comparison cases do not have to be identical. That is the dodge people use when they do not want to face the pattern. Every case has different facts, different witnesses, different wounds, different judges, and different juries. The point is not that every case is the same. The point is that courts keep finding room for fear, panic, mistakes, confusion, and mercy when certain people claim self-defense. Then a Black defendant asks for the same room, and suddenly there is none.
The cleanest Texas comparison is Belton. Caysen Allison, a white student, stabbed Jose “Joe” Ramirez Jr. during a school bathroom fight. Ramirez died. Allison admitted he stabbed him. His defense said he was scared, being attacked, and feared for his safety. The jury did not convict him of murder. It convicted him of criminally negligent homicide, a lesser charge. The system saw a deadly school stabbing, a self-defense argument, and enough room to avoid the harshest label. He received 10 years. Karmelo received 35.
Then there is Kyle Carruth in Lubbock, a grown white man in a heated confrontation with Chad Read. Carruth got a rifle. Read ended up dead. A special grand jury chose not to indict Carruth on any criminal charge. Outside Texas, Rick Chow, a store owner, chased 14-year-old Cyrus Carmack-Belton after wrongly suspecting him of stealing water. Cyrus was shot in the back. Chow claimed he acted to protect his son. A jury acquitted him. Chow belongs in this argument not because he is white, but because the fear the jury accepted was not the fear of the Black child who ended up dead. These cases are not the same, but they show the same ugly truth. The system knows how to understand fear when the person asking for grace is not a Black teenager.
The Kyle Rittenhouse comparison is not about identical facts. It is about the machine that shows up for certain people. Rittenhouse killed two people and wounded a third, claimed self-defense, and was acquitted. But the verdict was only part of the story. Conservatives raised money for him. Politicians defended him. Media figures turned him into a hero. After his acquittal, he was welcomed onto stages as if killing people made him a spokesman for freedom. That machine does not show up for Black children who say they were scared. It calls them thugs, predators, criminals, animals, and monsters, then digs through their lives for anything that makes throwing them away feel easier.
This is not a demand that every Black defendant be acquitted. It is a demand that Black fear be allowed to exist. It is a demand that a Black teenager’s survival instinct not be treated like a crime by default. It is a demand that the same America that can imagine Kyle Rittenhouse as scared, Kyle Carruth as justified, Rick Chow as protective, and Caysen Allison as negligent instead of murderous stop pretending it cannot imagine Karmelo Anthony as terrified. Black people are told self-defense belongs to everyone until they try to use it. They are told the law is neutral until they ask it to recognize their panic. They are told their children are children until those children need mercy, and then suddenly they are men. America did not deny Karmelo Anthony the right to claim self-defense. It did something colder. It let him say the words, then refused to believe a Black child could mean them.
– Tony Pentimalli “The Color of Fear”
via social media
June 11, 2026
I’ve been sitting with the Karmelo Anthony verdict. As a father of two Black boys, and as someone who has walked alongside countless young Black men at Alcorn, I am grieved.
Karmelo, 19 years old, will spend the next 18+ years in a Texas prison, sentenced by a predominantly white jury after prosecutors systematically struck every Black woman from the jury pool. The judge allowed it. The system called it justice.
Whether you agree with his defense or not, that young man deserved to have his humanity weighed by a jury of his actual peers.
He did not get that. The jury took less than three hours to decide his fate. Draw your own conclusions. But when a jury deliberates that quickly on a case this complex, this racially charged, this consequential it at least raises the question of whether they walked in already knowing what they were going to do.
To be sure, I am praying for the Metcalf family, who lost a son and will grieve that loss for the rest of their lives. Their pain is real and it is sacred.
And I am praying for Karmelo and his mother, who asked for mercy and received 35 years.
This is not a moment to be silent. It is a moment to be honest: our system does not weigh Black lives and white lives on the same scale. Until it does, the work continues.
Community activist Marshan Camese gave a fiery testimony before Louisiana lawmakers during a state Senate hearing on redistricting on Monday, May 12, 2026.
Seated before Louisiana lawmakers, Camese delivered the kind of testimony that doesn’t just enter the record – it enters the bloodstream of a community. His remarks cut through political choreography and forced the room to confront the lived consequences of policy, power, and the narratives that shape public life.
His testimony was not the polished language of a lobbyist or the cautious phrasing of a political insider. It was the voice of someone who has lived inside the systems he was describing — someone who understands how legislation lands on real bodies, real families, and real futures.
Camese called out the modern MAGA movement, the legacy of the Confederacy, and the political forces still working to strip people of power, dignity, and basic rights.
Speaking plainly and directly, he challenged lawmakers to reckon with the forces he sees eroding dignity and democratic participation. His words named the modern political currents – including the rise of MAGA extremism and the lingering legacy of the Confederacy – that continue to shape the state’s political landscape. In doing so, he refused to sanitize the truth for the comfort of those in power.
Camese’s testimony underscored a central theme: the struggle for political voice in a state where many residents feel their rights are increasingly under threat. He spoke to the ways political actors use fear, misinformation, and historical revisionism to maintain control, and he urged lawmakers to confront the real-world impact of these tactics.
His remarks resonated because they articulated what many Louisianans – and many Americans – feel but rarely hear acknowledged in official spaces: that democracy is not an abstract ideal but a daily practice, one that requires courage, clarity, and accountability.
Observers in the room and online described the speech as “fearless,” “blistering,” and “the truth spoken without apology.” The video quickly went viral, amplified by viewers who recognized the urgency of his message and the rarity of such candor in a legislative chamber.
Camese’s testimony also served as a reminder that public comment periods – often treated as procedural formalities – can become powerful civic interventions when people speak from conviction rather than calculation.
While Camese did not shy away from naming the political forces he believes are undermining democratic participation, his testimony was ultimately a call to action. He urged lawmakers to legislate with integrity, to protect the rights of marginalized communities, and to resist the temptation to govern through division.
His message was clear: the future of Louisiana depends on leaders willing to confront hard truths and reject the politics of fear.
In a state grappling with debates over voting rights, representation, and the role of history in public life, Camese’s testimony arrives at a critical time. It reflects a broader national struggle over who gets to shape the narrative of American democracy – and whose voices are dismissed or diminished.
By speaking plainly about the stakes, Camese reminded lawmakers and residents alike that democracy is strongest when people refuse to be silent.
– The Urban News May 18, 2026
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Following is the video (and a partial transcript) of Marshan Camese’s calling out of the machinery of power.
The state of Louisiana in 2025 deported multiple children, one of whom was born in New Orleans and had brain cancer. Donald Trump got the pro-life, Bible-thumping Republican Party to say, “Yes, we want more of that.” As a matter of fact, send Gregory Bovino down here to harass more people.
So I have no doubt in my mind that the map is going to pass. If y’all could give us less than zero seats, you would do it.
Y’all do this under the orders of somebody who said the Civil Rights Act was harmful to white people, that it caused reverse racism.
RFK said that Black children are over-medicated on anti-depressants and that they need to be re-parented on different farms, all of them.
Pete Hegseth constantly brings Doug Wilson to the Pentagon to give a prayer service. Doug Wilson is the same pastor who said that slave owners were on strong spiritual ground.
I don’t have any belief in the morality of anybody who followed Donald Trump. If you weren’t with this map, you wouldn’t be underneath this president. You wouldn’t be in your party. You would stand up. You would stand against it. You would speak out about it.
So as far as I’m concerned, if you’re here as one of these Trump Republicans, you already showed us who you are. You showed us what you want to do.
And I believe the country as a whole is rebuking your party. Y’all are in a death spiral.
That’s why y’all have to redistrict. That’s why y’all have to cheat. That’s why Trump had to go to Texas and say he’s entitled to five more seats.
It’s because y’all know what y’all are doing is abhorrent.
We’re letting our people die in Iran based on the false pretense that Tulsi Gabbard and Joe Kent say it isn’t real. Y’all are okay with all that. So I’m positive y’all are going to be okay with the maps.
But the beautiful thing is, the children that y’all have made and the people who are younger than y’all don’t support any of this racism that y’all want. The MAGA party is the last breath of the Confederacy, and I’ll be happy to see millennials and Gen Z bury y’all. There will be no more of your party. The midterms are going to come. Y’all are going to get wiped out.
Trump is going to get dragged out of the White House, and I’m going to love every second of it, because y’all loved every second of the suffering that he caused to everybody in this country and worldwide.
We’re starving Cuba. We bombed Nigeria. We’re holding Zimbabwe, Zambia hostage for their minerals. We don’t want to give them aid support. The pro-lifers who say all life is special, y'all are letting kids die of AIDS.
What part of your Bible says that? Point out the scripture. I think everybody would love to see it. And we would love to see y'all in the midterms.
– Marshan Camese May 12, 2026
In closing, the first few minutes of the video below shows the exchange between Marshan Camese and Republican Senator Blake Miguezafter Camese delivered his speech. It’s been described as an “epic takedown and last laugh” on Camese’s part.
I cannot help but see the compelling similarities from these two pictures, exactly 70 years apart.
On the left, in 1956, a white male police officer fingerprints and arrests Rosa Parks for violating an anti-boycott law, blocking access to justice and equal access under the law.
On the right, in 2026, a white male police officer blocks Tennessee Representative Justin Pearson from accessing a committing meeting that guts the district he represents.
70 years later, fragile racist white male agents of the state with lethal force, hide behind a badge to deny racial justice. This is what we mean when we say the system isn't broken, it was built this way. And a system cannot fail those it was never meant to protect. Our country will not advance to a place of meaningful justice unless we dismantle these systems of injustice and replace them with systems of absolute justice.
History vindicated Rosa Parks. History will vindicate Justin Pearson. And that history begins now.
The South will not rise again, until it’s paid for all its sins of racism and white supremacy.
Today, I left the Capitol Klan Rally, where my white Republican colleagues took off their white hoods and dismantled Black political power in our state. It’s shameful, it’s immoral, and it will go down in the history books alongside the legacy of George Wallace and Bull Connor.
Tennessee has shamefully become the first state to pass a new, racist congressional map following the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision in Louisiana v. Callais, which dismantled the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
When I walked into the building it was 2026, and when I walked out it was pre-1965. This racial power grab against Black voters is purely rooted in control and elimination of their voices in our democracy. Today’s Jim Crow laws passed in our legislature spit on the graves of our Civil Rights martyrs who bled and died for the right to political power and representation.
They are dragging us backwards in history but we refuse to be moved.
I burned the Confederate flag, because the neo-Confederate caucus that assembled today will be defeated again. Their vision of the South, rooted in plantation politics and racial division will not win. Instead we must use this moment to ignite our rebellion and movement even more towards real justice and multiracial democracy. We must build towards a South that can RISE ANEW.
We know that the anti-woke, the stop woke terminology [used by Governor Ron DeSantis and others is] nothing more than a dog whistle. Woke – if you replace it, it’s Black. They have a problem with Black people. And their anti-Black policies and their continual attacks on the Black community [. . .] illustrate that perfectly. Over the past few legislative terms, we have seen a concerted effort for Ron DeSantis to silence Black voices, to silence Black pain, to devalue our humanity, to erase our history. And people are frustrated and tired. I am so saddened by the loss of Angela, Anolt and Jarrald. But, you know, I am angry. We are angry that leadership in our state continue to perpetuate this hateful violence through rhetoric.
I appreciate the words of my congressional representative Ilhan Omar (right) on the DOJ’s findings.
This is a dark day for our city. These findings are shocking, but sadly, not surprising. What’s worse, the report finds that many of the violations – such as the widespread failure to report race and gender in stops – increased after George Floyd’s murder in 2020. As a Black woman living in Minneapolis, I have experienced some of these violations firsthand.
We must demand a public safety system built on data and trust, not fear and racism. We must recognize that we cannot prosecute and incarcerate our way to sustainable public safety, that building that trust requires that we address the system that allows racial discrimination – from the disproportionate arrest and incarceration rates Black and Brown people face, to the marijuana laws that criminalize Black and Brown people.
We need to act at the federal level, including by passing my Amir Locke End Deadly No Knock Warrants Act, my package of bills making police violence against protesters a federal crime (among other provisions), and the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act. And most of all, we must build a police force that is well-trained, held accountable by its leadership, and follows the highest standards of ethics and conduct.
This past Thursday, Justin Jones and Justin J. Pearson, two Black Democratic lawmakers, were expelled by a Republican supermajority in the Tennessee state House of Representatives for peacefully protesting gun violence in the chamber last week as thousands rallied at the Capitol to demand gun control after the Covenant elementary school shooting in Nashville.
A vote to expel Rep. Gloria Jones, their white colleague who joined them in solidarity, failed.
“They thought by expelling us they would silence us, they would silence our movements that we’re part of, but in fact they’ve amplified it, because the nation can see how racist they are. The nation can see how retaliatory and absurd and authoritarian they are,” said Jones on Thursday.
Yesterday, Justin Jones was interviewed by Democracy Now!’s Amy Goodman.
The interview, of 24-minute duration, is a must-see. Not only does it allow Jones to eloquently share his thoughts on his expulsion and its deeper significance, but it also features some of the inspiring testimonies and dramatic exchanges that unfolded on the House floor. Overall, Jones calls the incident “a public lynching” targeting the two youngest Black lawmakers in the Legislature.
The video of Democracy Now!’s interview with Justin Jones is followed by a number of progressive perspectives on the ousting of both him and Rep. Justin Pearson.
Decorum means that one’s speech must be appropriate to the speaker, the subject matter, the audience, and the occasion. That means that if you witness a bloody murder, decorum dictates that you scream bloody murder.
For years in this country we have witnessed the bloody murder of children in our schools. Kids decapitated by blasts from AR-15s. Silence is not decorum. Silence is complicity.
The young legislators who were expelled in Tennessee were not engaging in insurrection. Reports I have read suggest an interruption on the House floor of a few minutes, not an attempt to subvert the democratic process or to overturn a valid election.
Those who engage in civil disobedience know and accept that their actions will have consequences. But Republicans in the Tennessee House went way beyond enforcing House rules. They were using the protest as a pretext for a grossly disproportionate penalty, driving members of the opposing party out of the legislature, in effect overturning their valid election by their constituents.
Above: Justin Jones carries his name tag after the vote to remove him from the Tennessee House of Representatives. (Photo: Reuters/Cheney Orr)
Republicans in the Tennessee House of Representatives are furious and out for revenge. Two Black Democratic members and a [white female] Democratic [member] had confronted them – and embarrassed them – over their unwillingness to do anything about the slaughter of Tennessee’s children in that state’s schools.
To punish them and teach women and other young Black men – who might think of being too troublesome in the legislature – a lesson, the GOP ran a pathetic Kangaroo Court for the world to see. And got their revenge.
. . . Revenge as a political philosophy is rooted in violence: the domination of the many by a few, whether the main instrument of that domination is personal physical violence, the violence of great wealth and political power being used to destroy one’s enemies, or unjustified violence inflicted by the state under color of law.
But at its core, revenge is rooted in physical violence, intimidation, and murder. It’s war brought into politics and governance.
Vengeance like this has its own power and its own attraction. The media is drawn to it, making it attractive to Republicans as a way of bringing together their followers.
Insecure, frightened men (and the occasional woman) participating in revenge-fueled violence find a sense of agency, of individual power and meaning, a sort of orgasmic release from a life of ordinariness and political impotence.
And make no mistake: the GOP has become the party of revenge and political violence.
Revenge is the cardinal characteristic, the logo, the brand identity of fascism. Every fascist movement in history has lifted itself to power on the scaffold of revenge against an “other” they claim have stolen from them or persecuted them.
Rightwing media revel in the language of revenge. They dehumanize the victims of their violence with words like “invaders” and “vermin” and “illegals” and demand revenge for the lost jobs, integrated schools and neighborhoods, and other insults they imagine.
To justify the violence at the heart of their movement, they also squeal a phony claim to victimhood: wealthy Republicans claim Democrats are trying to take their tax dollars. They fear gays are trying to groom their children. They pretend teachers are indoctrinating their youth in socialism. Revenge, they say, is their only option.
Over the past four decades, as this revenge-fueled movement has arisen in America and taken over the GOP, more than three-quarters of all politically motivated murders have been committed by rightwing often-Republican-aligned terrorists who invariably claim they’re rightfully seeking revenge.
Republicans justify their violence as necessary to get revenge against those they say have assaulted their faith, their families, and the “identity” of their homeland. They will tell you it’s the unfortunate last-ditch “necessity” provoked by the Democrats and dark-skinned or queer “others” who “threaten our way of life.”
In reality, revenge is not the fascist’s final, last-gasp option: it’s their first.
There is no justification for ousting two legislators who were protesting with and for their constituents. That two Black men were expelled for standing up against the murder of children – but not their white counterpart – says it all. People are dying because Republicans want to put politics over the lives of the people they represent. They ask for safety for themselves, but not for school children, and they’ll sacrifice the lives of our loved ones for their lobbyists.
Now is not the time to be on the sidelines. We better fight back before it’s too late.
Thank you, Tennessee, for introducing us to these two young men, the two Justins. My goodness, I would have never known about these leaders without your desire to ELEVATE them. Yes, elevate them. You thought you were expelling them, but you have raised them up. It is no coincidence that their names are so close to the word – justice.
On this Good Friday, this is scripture in action. Genesis 50:20: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”
What the enemy meant for evil, God turns to good!
– Victoria Christopher Murray via Facebook
April 7, 2023
Opening image: Rep. Justin Jones (front) and Rep. Justin Pearson raise their fists as Republicans prepared to vote to expel them on Thursday, April 7, 2023. (Photo: Reuters/Cheney Orr)
We want an end to police murders of Black people. So, this moment [in the wake of the death of Tyre Nichols] isn’t about Black vs. white, it’s about blue vs. Black. Diversity cannot and does not solve systemic problems.
If we don’t change the structure of policing and safety in our country, Black people will continue to be killed, by police of all races. The evidence is clear – investing in communities will keep us safe, not the police.
Above: Tyre Nichols (1994-2023). Nichols was a 29-year-old Black father, amateur photographer and longtime skateboarder who died January 10, 2023 from kidney failure and cardiac arrest, three days after he was brutally beaten by five police officers during a traffic stop. The officers were fired earlier this month and indicted yesterday (1/26/23) with second-degree murder, kidnapping and other charges for their role in Nichols’s death.
In my neighborhood last Wednesday night, just a few blocks from my home, 20-year-old Tekle Sundberg experienced a mental health crisis and began shooting a gun in his apartment. Because some of the shots he fired went through his apartmemt walls, Tekle’s actions endangered his fellow residents, including children.
I was on the nearby Franklin Ave. Bridge with my friend and neighbor Kurt at the time Tekle started shooting. We were with others watching the Buck Moon begin its majestic rise above the Mississippi River. Our quiet summer evening was suddenly shattered by the wail of multiple police car sirens and the persistent drone of a helicopter overhead.
Tekle’s apartment complex was quickly evacuated and a tense stand-off with police began. Tekle’s parents arrived but were told by police that they could not attempt to approach or speak face-to-face with their son. Hours passed. Then at 4:30 a.m on Thursday, Tekle was shot dead in his apartment by two police snipers positioned on a nearby roof.
“We know Tekle is an imperfect human, as we’re all imperfect humans,” said Cindy Sundberg, Tekle’s mother. “He did not deserve to be picked off like an animal from a rooftop.”
No, he didn’t.
Following is a 4-minute interview with Tekle’s parents and siblings. A number of hard truths about the state of American society as it pertains to Black lives and Black bodies are laid bare in this interview. I think you’ll find that watching it will be the most powerful, informative, and heartwrenching four minutes you’ll spend today.
I established The Wild Reed in 2006 as a sign of solidarity with all who are dedicated to living lives of integrity – though, in particular, with gay people seeking to be true to both the gift of their sexuality and their Catholic faith. The Wild Reed's original by-line read, “Thoughts and reflections from a progressive, gay, Catholic perspective.” As you can see, it reads differently now. This is because my journey has, in many ways, taken me beyond, or perhaps better still, deeper into the realities that the words “progressive,” “gay,” and “Catholic” seek to describe.
Even though reeds can symbolize frailty, they may also represent the strength found in flexibility. Popular wisdom says that the green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm. Tall green reeds are associated with water, fertility, abundance, wealth, and rebirth. The sound of a reed pipe is often considered the voice of a soul pining for God or a lost love.
On September 24, 2012,Michael BaylyofCatholics for Marriage Equality MNwas interviewed by Suzanne Linton of Our World Today about same-sex relationships and why Catholics can vote 'no' on the proposed Minnesota anti-marriage equality amendment.
"I believe your blog to be of utmost importance for all people regardless of their orientation. . . . Thank you for your blog and the care and dedication that you give in bringing the TRUTH to everyone."– William
"Michael, if there is ever a moment in your day or in your life when you feel low and despondent and wonder whether what you are doing is anything worthwhile, think of this: thanks to your writing on the internet, a young man miles away is now willing to embrace life completely and use his talents and passions unashamedly to celebrate God and his creation. Any success I face in the future and any lives I touch would have been made possible thanks to you and your honesty and wisdom."– AB
"Since I discovered your blog I have felt so much more encouraged and inspired knowing that I'm not the only gay guy in the Catholic Church trying to balance my Faith and my sexuality. Continue being a beacon of hope and a guide to the future within our Church!"– Phillip
"Your posts about Catholic issues are always informative and well researched, and I especially appreciate your photography and the personal posts about your own experience. I'm very glad I found your blog and that I've had the chance to get to know you."– Crystal
"Thank you for taking the time to create this fantastic blog. It is so inspiring!"– George
"I cannot claim to be an expert on Catholic blogs, but from what I've seen, The Wild Reed ranks among the very best."– Kevin
"Reading your blog leaves me with the consolation of knowing that the words Catholic, gay and progressive are not mutually exclusive.."– Patrick
"I grieve for the Roman institution’s betrayal of God’s invitation to change. I fear that somewhere in the midst of this denial is a great sin that rests on the shoulders of those who lead and those who passively follow. But knowing that there are voices, voices of the prophets out there gives me hope. Please keep up the good work."– Peter
"I ran across your blog the other day looking for something else. I stopped to look at it and then bookmarked it because you have written some excellent articles that I want to read. I find your writing to be insightful and interesting and I'm looking forward to reading more of it. Keep up the good work. We really, really need sane people with a voice these days."– Jane Gael
"Michael, your site is like water in the desert."– Jayden
