It's 5:35 in the morning as I begin typing this. I'm supposed to be going to the dealership to get my transmission serviced at 6:30, so I guess I'll stay up now. I've been working on the finalities of my poetry book; making sure the titles are all bolded and underlined, I've corrected any errors, and my not-so-great art is the greatest it can be (there, I gave you a little secret). Anywho, as I went through my phone's notes to make sure I didn't miss any poems I wanted to include before I sent the work off to the publisher, I ran across this poem I began writing that I haven't titled yet, but it's about Amerikkka. Yes, spelled just like that. In my writing headspace, I siphon inspiration from any and everywhere, that's how I was reintroduced to the murder of Elijah McClain.
On August 30, 2019, Elijah was walking home from the store when he was accosted by police because someone had called in an UNARMED "sketchy" person wearing a ski mask. Three police officers approached him and their bodycams were conveniently "knocked to the ground" during the struggle that allegedly ensued. While there is no video footage of the entire struggle, audio is present. The police officers can be heard saying not to pick up their cameras as Elijah says he can't breathe, vomits repeatedly, then apologizes to the officers who are killing him for vomiting. Elijah was walking home from the store listening to music with a bag full of what he'd bought in his hand. He was murdered for going to the store.
Three officers restrained and manhandled him while he continued to be his quirky, pleasant self, right up until one of the police officers applied a carotid hold and he passed out. If that wasn't bad enough, an EMT came onto the scene and without checking Elijah, immediately administered an excessive dose of ketamine, enough for a person who weighed well over 200 pounds. Elijah was only 140 pounds and only 5'6 tall, and he was wearing a ski mask because he has a documented medical condition that causes him to get extremely cold. It was cold out that night.
I probably shouldn't, but I've made it one of my norms to watch videos where the police are obviously racially profiling and harassing black and brown people just because they can. In those videos, they are being jerks to get identification, doing illegal searches to try and escalate the situation, or they're writing petty tickets. I wish Elijah would have gotten those types of racist cops. The ones that are racist and pesky, but not killers. He didn't though, he got the blood-thirsty ones. He got the cops whose parents salute the confederate flag and still believe Trump will Make America Great Again, when in actuality, AmeriKKKa has never been great.
After this unjustified attack and blatant use of excessive force, Elijah died 3 days later in the hospital, though he was braindead before he even got there. If you think this was simply a case of excessive force, you would be wrong. This was a modern-day lynching. You should know that there were police officers who took a picture smiling with the scene of Elijah's murder in the background. If you're still not convinced, they also took a picture smiling reenacting the carotid hold that, along with the ketamine dose, ultimately led to his death.
Violating Elijah didn't stop there, before the coroner announced his findings (which were inconclusive) members of the police department met with him and there were police investigators present during the autopsy. Despite the blatant disregard for protocols for the type of call these police officers were responding to, despite an obvious conspiracy to avoid body cam footage, despite the incriminating body cam audio, despite the obvious excessive force that led to or at least contributed to his death, despite a despicable picture mocking his murder, despite police obviously intimidating the coroner, these men are still free.
I cried as I read this story. I cried for Elijah and George, and Botham and Sandra, and Trayvon, and Philando, and Mike, And Atatiana, and Breonna, and Tamir, and Ahmaud, and Freddie, and Sam, and Alton, and Terence, and Eric, and Walter, and my son and, and my black father, and my black grand son, and my black nephews, and my black people. It doesn't matter your age. Tamir was 12 with a water gun on a playground. It doesn't matter your size. Elijah was 140 lbs. It doesn't matter your gender. Atatiana was an auntie babysitting her nephew. It doesn't matter if you comply. Philando was following orders to get his license. It doesn't even matter if you're at home. Botham Jean was on his sofa eating ice cream. Lynches haven't gone away, they've just modernized. The KKK is still alive and well, they just wear blue.
Here are Elijah's last words picked up from the body cam audio...
"I can't breathe. I have my ID right here. My name is Elijah McClain. That's my house. I was just going home. I'm an introvert. I'm just different. That's all. I'm so sorry. I have no gun. I don't do that stuff. I don't do any fighting. Why are you attacking me? I don't even kill flies! I don't eat meat! But I don't judge people, I don't judge people who do eat meat. Forgive me. All I was trying to do was become better. I will do it. I will do anything. Sacrifice my identity, I'll do it. You all are phenomenal. You are beautiful and I love you. Try to forgive me. I'm a mood Gemini. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Ow, that really hurt! You are all very strong. Teamwork makes the dream work. Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I just can't breathe correctly."
Rest in Power Elijah. You did not deserve to die. This world did not deserve you!
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