words and photos by Flex Matthews

I just left my second protest and it's presumably my last one. I don't think that I have the stomach for it.

This whole ordeal has taught me a lot about myself. How do you look at yourself in the mirror after you've talked your revolutionary talk, but your heart crumbles when you see the ailing and pain in the eyes on both sides of the line. They are human on both sides of the line. I might have to trade in my revolutionary badge in order to wear a bigger humanist badge instead. I want justice and change but I want it peacefully. Civilly. I don't want to have to tear down the character of another human being to achieve it. On the flip side how many black lives have to be lost for there to be a deviation in power? Is empathy not a part of police training? My people kneeled on fields and were called SOB's. The officers kneeled on necks and they were...well...just doing their jobs. How did we get here? The police are titled as one of America's greatest heroes, but heroes are human, and humans are foible.

Somehow I don't think the country at large understands that. Who would have thought going to a protest would elicit such a voluminous range of emotions in me. I feel like such a punk right now. Selah. I saw the police and I wanted to say something awful, but when I looked at their eyes I wanted to give them a hug. How do you scream fight the power when your heart is this soft? I'm not revolutionary at all. At my core, I am just a plain old humanist with a camera. Humanity is fractured. I need a hug right now.

Peace

#SaysFlex