My Mind is Shot

Jasmyn Stokes 

“Hands up. Don’t shoot. I can’t breathe.” Jasmyn Stokes.

My mind is shot. All I can hear are people screaming at cops, screaming at others not to kill us, not to harm us. I hear peaceful protestors running from tear gas and rubber bullets. It feels as if I’m breathing the gas into my mouth, feeling it sting my eyes.

Is this what America has come to? Do I have to watch as others die? Will I be next?

Every time I see a cop, I feel the need to throw my hands up. I feel watched whenever I walk down the street. I feel stereotyped by the color of my skin. Others tell me not to worry, that what’s happening on the news is not happening to me. But what if it is? What if every time I’ve been stereotyped, every time I’ve been called a name, every time I was accused of doing something that wasn’t “black,” it’s just a repetition of what I’ve seen on the news happening to someone else?

My mind is shot.

I say their names. They didn’t deserve to die. No one deserves to die for the color of their skin. But this is America. What we deserve has never been factored into the equation.

Jasmyn Stokes was born and raised in Philadelphia, Pa. She is currently a student at Pennsylvania College of Art and Design going for her B.F.A in Illustration, hoping to minor in Fine Art. Her Instagram is @jasmynstokesart_