it hurts my heart…

…to see what’s happening in oakland with the murder of oscar grant and to see a picture in the san francisco gate of the little boy i helped to raise now grown up and tackling protesters as a police officer. i know him and i know where his heart is and in any other circumstances, it could have been him on that train platform. he is a large man, easily six foot four and an ex-college football player. intimidating isn’t a word i would ascribe to him having changed those diapers and seen that sweet smile but i can step outside of myself and see him as others would. the uniform and badge make it worse. my uncle is a police officer too. again, one of the most gentlest, even tempered people i know. he quit the l.a. force when he saw the amount of corruption going on and only went back to active duty at the airport. i’ve been on the other side of the baton and cuffs. i’ve been baited by officers and my heart shatters every time i replay that video of grant’s death in my head. i know what it’s like to harden my heart against the police, the mistrust and avoidance and then i see this picture of my child (as close as i’ve ever been to my own) and i just weep because i know who he is, the husband he is, the father he is and i imagine the father grant was and the senselessness of it all is so overwhelming. because of one man’s stupidity, another man’s life is lost and now people that i know and love are in danger as well and i can see the escalation on both sides and know that i can’t convince anyone to back down.