Get in on this viral marvel and start spreading that buzz! Buzzy was made for all up and coming modern publishers & magazines!

Fb. In. Tw. Be.

We have always needed protection from police as we’ve always been sites of violence for them.

We pay homage to our ancestors. We recognize and give thanks to the ancestors whose names we know and those we don’t. We pay gratitude for the times they have blanketed us with their love like armor; when they have directed us away from unnecessary pain; the way they continue to guide us towards fulfillment. Give thanks for their support of our strength. Ase. 
We cannot deny that police violence is still a legitimate and real fear for black and Indigenous people in the western world. We have seen and heard the painful documentations of the unjust losses of our community members at the hands of police, and have been forced to internalize the message received about the value of black and brown lives in North America. However, we have simultaneously watched as our communities have fought to change the way we are handled by the most notorious gang in blue.

Valerie Castile’s words of anger and mourning mix into a strong potion of Black rage, one that is holy in its justification and righteous in its power.

By Devyn Springer
TW// Police Brutality, Violence, Death A little under a year ago on July 6th, Philando Castile was shot and killed by officer Jeronimo Yanez while driving with his girlfriend and her four-year-old daughter. What was supposed to be a simple traffic stop turned into a death sentence for Castile an occurrence that is beginning to seem routine for Black people. Castile’s death went viral causing mass protests and uprisings across the U.S. and particularly across Minnesota, where the killing occurred. This was largely due to the fact that Castile’s girlfriend Diamond Reynolds, live-streamed the tragedy on Facebook. While the medical examiners ruled Castile’s death a homicide – stating he had sustained multiple gunshot wounds – last week, officer Yanez was acquitted of all charges sparking a new round of nationwide protests, upset, and Black rage. While the majority of us are aware of the dangers of putting our hopes for justice into the same system responsible for our deaths, Black America also intently awaits for the chance to taste tiny slivers of victory by sending murderous officers to jail.

In the wake of the deaths of Jordan Edwards and Richard Collins, two more black boys left to a hashtag, the highlighting of accolades and posturing is more prevalent than ever.

By Erica Buddington “Silence and uniformity are not reflections of a job well done.” I said this to a former supervisor who’d walked into a class discussion earlier that day, students laughing and intrigued, flailing their arms to be the next person to speak. He shook his head, pointed to the text that the organization abided by, and repeated, “They should be quiet. They should have their hands folded, waiting their turn. They should all be looking directly at you. There were too many voices; there was too much laughter. It should be silent when I walk into your room. Children learn and understand, better this way. They become better citizens, this way.” I watched his pointer finger hit the desk, a brown hand that had only filled out a principal fellowship application, after teaching for six months out of grad school. I’d been immersed in a classroom or learning space for almost a decade and I couldn’t fathom how someone, who claimed to be an advocate for our children, could be so closed-minded. It is this same brown hand that would push a contract towards me, excited about my data from the past year, with $10,000 dollars added to my salary, a promise that I could have more autonomy over my classroom, and a plea to revitalize their performance arts. I smiled and pushed the contract back with my own brown hand, making it clear that there was no money or autonomy in the world that could make me treat our children like this.

You don't have permission to register