Soon Enough, by Nick Mangine

I was looking for Nico at his school last year. I had met with his teachers and wanted to touch base before I left for work. I found him in the gym jumping rope and he looked so old. It was one of those moments when I realized how long it had been since the first time I saw this amazing little boy. 

"He looks at least 15," I remember thinking. 

The same age as Jordan Edwards. 

But he wasn't 15.
He was 12. The same age as Tamir Rice.

Nico's always been small. People always tell me that he's cute. He's got a great smile. They talk about his perfect hair and beautiful eyes.

But he's not a little boy anymore. 

And it scares me. 

And soon enough,

that hair will be locked or corn-rowed and it will no longer be beautiful.

It will be dangerous.

And soon enough. 

Those big, brown eyes will stare down the barrel of a gun. 

And his actions in that moment,

No matter how innocent,

No matter how well-meaning,

His actions will be brought to account,

Quite possibly with his life.

But the actions of the other,

The one with the gun,

The one with the badge,

The one with the uniform,

And the power,

And the responsibility,

Those actions,

No matter how heinous or irresponsible,

No matter the consequence for my son's body,

Those actions will not be held to account,

Not with their life,

Not with their freedom,

Not with their job,

Not with their social standing.

I will not even be allowed to question their love of black people.

Jesus Christ, 

They say,

Will save us from all death. 

Unless it's death by a gun,

Whose barrel is pointed at my son.

So Christians,

You know who you are,

Do not speak to me of life after death,

Unless you are willing to listen to me about my son's life before it.

Tamir Rice, 12-years-old

My son, 12-years-old, not posed



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Note: This blog is reposted from Nick's blog with permission.  

By the way, you should read his blog.  He is a wise guy... in the good way.