Sometimes My Black Life Matters

But more often than not, I wish it wouldn’t.

It mattered the day I was walking to my car at Lenox Mall when I was ordered inside a police car until I sufficiently explained my purpose for being in the deck. The keys in my hand and the cars between lines provided no clue. It mattered the very next time I was in the very same deck and ordered inside a police car until I sufficiently explained my purpose. Again.

My black life mattered the day I was helping my sister-in-law move her furniture from her apartment to a moving van when several police…