Today's passage, How can we win? It was nearly one year ago, when I first heard, Kimberly Latrice Jones’ remarks regarding Black Lives Matter protests about inequality, and police brutality. Her video picked up popularity and was widely spread throughout the U.S. There was an uproar against the BLM movement due to rioting and looting. Kimberly’s comments helped to deconstruct the "Why" behind the looting and rioting during the protests, which helped to keep our thoughts and beliefs on the root cause of the BLM issue, which is systemic racism and how it ensures a dismal financial gap between the poor and the wealthy for people of color.

Kimberly Jones' explains the differences between looters, rioters and protesters...[...] Now, I live in NYC. When George Floyd was murdered on Memorial Day, and in the days after his death, protesting began in the city.  It happens that my kids were away the weekend after, so I was out in Central Park, somewhere in the rambles, reading spiritual book. I was actually rereading, Return to Love by Marianne Williamson. As I was walking out of the park, book in hand, a couple walked past me, Caucasian.  The young woman was visibly upset. Her partner was carrying a picnic basket, he seemed perplexed. He said, “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Go out and streets and protest?” A novel idea by the way he said it. She goes, “I don’t know, maybe!” I’ve always wondered if they went out later into the streets and protested, because I did too.

As I stood alongside (with) a group of people watching a group of protesters sitting on the steps of The Met chanting for BLM, I felt hypocritical and completely idiotic. In my hand, I held this spiritual book about God’s love and returning in all ways to love, yet I was observing a painful injustice and was choosing to stand in observation. Why? So I joined the protest.

A few hours later, in Greenwich Village, I heard speeches given by several of the organizers and college kids from nearby universities.  I met a Palestinian woman named Tahanie Aboush who I would later learn was a civil rights attorney running for Manhattan District Attorney.  As we marched from Greenwich Village to Union Square, the sun setting.  I saw a young man run over to a trash can and push it over.  On the next block he ran to do the same thing, I ran after him.  I shouted, “Hey, that’s not the way, stop it – don’t start it!” He shouted back at me, “Why do you care? It’s the only way to get there attention! They don’t care about us!” Three of the organizers, all female, came and linked arms around me and said I was right to he should knock it off. We sort of skipped off to the square. I don’t know if he continued throwing trashcans as I took that as my cue to return home, but I do know that that’s when the riots started in New York.  I will never forget the look of shock on his face as I ran up to him, the "Mama" in me wanted to correct and protect him. But his "Why" was greater than me.

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