It happened in those convulsive days after the killing of George Floyd, when every major city erupted in demonstrations. Things were moving so fast you couldn’t keep up. One day I glanced at the news and saw a photo of a skinny white guy, whose grotesquely contorted body lay face-down in the street. Black blood was pooled beside his head. Then I saw that this happened right here in Dallas—in Deep Ellum, the nightclub district. I was shaken for the rest of the day. The news was sketchy at first, but it appeared that a bunch of guys kicked, stoned,
As I write these words, the latest video has emerged of police putting a white hood on an obviously mentally ill, handcuffed, naked, and unarmed black man, then shoving his face into the asphalt as he suffocates to the point of unconsciousness. I apologize if these words provoke additional trauma. Those who have seen the video will recognize that mine is an abbreviated account; I left out several ugly details. These events happened on March 23 in Rochester, New York. Daniel Prude, a human being, died seven days later. Let me stop for a moment and identify myself. I am
by Julie Lyons