Eight Minutes and Forty-Seven Seconds
My husband and I attended a protest last
night at McMichael Park in our East Falls neighborhood. It was peaceful and
it did my weary heart good to see so many neighbors—of all races and hues and
ages—turn out to protest. I would have expected no less from my neighbors.
For me the most significant and jarring
moment was the eight minutes and forty-seven seconds of silence we were asked
to observe. Many people in the crowd, including me and my husband, took a knee.
Eight minutes and forty-seven seconds is a long time. About halfway through
people started squirming in discomfort. Many changed knees or stood for a
moment. It was a very uncomfortable position to be in. It was an enlightening
experience for me. eight minutes and forty-seven seconds is a long time to
kneel. It’s uncomfortable to kneel on grass. What must it be like to kneel on someone’s
neck? For eight minutes and forty-seven seconds. Hands in pockets. What
level of hatred, of malicious intent does it take to do that?
Derek Chauvin is an absolute monster. He is
inhumane. He should be put down like a rabid dog. I would suggest that the prosecution
ask the presiding judge and the jury to kneel for eight minutes and forty-seven
seconds. And then ask them to pass judgment. Derek Chauvin would be found
guilty, his crimes finally named: racism, malicious intent, murder, inhumanity
to man.
Eight minutes and forty-seven seconds may change
the world. Eight minutes and forty-seven seconds certainly changed me.
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