蜜芽传媒

It was about two weeks after Aug. 9, 2014, the day Michael Brown鈥檚 dead body was left in the street for hours after he had been shot by a police officer.

I was standing next to my wife in the second or third row. We were singing a popular Christian hymn I had sung dozens of times before. When the chorus rolled around the second time, I couldn鈥檛 get out the words. I couldn鈥檛 hold back the tears. Flooded with emotions that had been welling up for several days, I cried and shook, like I was at a funeral for a loved one who had unexpectedly passed.

I don鈥檛 know why I broke down at that song, at that moment. It might have been the exhaustion of writing of my life for two weeks. It might have been the overwhelming emotion of my visit a few days earlier to West Florissant Avenue and Canfield Drive in Ferguson to experience the protests up close.

Was I angry at God? Were my eyes opened to the historic racism that had been baked into the structure and daily life of 蜜芽传媒? Was I feeling helpless because all I could do was put words on paper, hoping they made a difference as a historic civil rights uprising unfolded?

I still don鈥檛 know why that moment unfolded the way it did. But it was the moment I knew I鈥檇 be writing about Ferguson for the rest of my life.

For the past decade, much of my work has been focused on telling the stories of those who have experienced the underbelly of institutional racism in 蜜芽传媒 and the forces of good working to make this a more equitable community.

There was Keilee Fant, who became the poster child of the movement to end debtors鈥� prisons in 蜜芽传媒, where mostly poor Black residents in cash-strapped municipalities were fined repeatedly for driving and other infractions. They were jailed when they couldn鈥檛 afford to pay for their freedom.

There were the Medicaid 23, Black pastors from across the state who were arrested and charged with trespassing when they dared to sing, pray and chant during a Missouri Senate debate. They were highlighting the state鈥檚 failure to expand Medicaid and provide health care to more poor people.

There was Jason Wilson, the Clayton coffee shop owner who was stopped by police for 鈥渃anvassing while Black鈥� 鈥� he was knocking on doors on his way to becoming the first Black man elected to the Clayton School Board.

There were Luthor Hall and Milton Green, two Black police officers who felt abandoned by their colleagues in the 蜜芽传媒 Metropolitan Police Department, with careers cut short. Hall was beaten up by white colleagues while working undercover during a protest; Green, while off duty, was shot by a white colleague and is still pursuing justice in federal court.

These stories were not tied directly to Brown鈥檚 death, but they had everything to do with the causes of one of the most sustained periods of protest in our nation鈥檚 history. What Ferguson did was rip off the Band-Aid covering a region鈥檚 original sin and reveal racism and division that could be ignored no more.

The words of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., in his 鈥�,鈥� have guided me over these 10 years as I use my platform to tell stories of oppression.

鈥淔irst, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate,鈥� King wrote, lamenting that the 鈥渨hite moderate鈥� is often more devoted to order than justice, thinking they can set a timetable for when and how protests should occur.

鈥淪hallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will,鈥� King wrote. 鈥淟ukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.鈥�

There is no timetable for justice. But in the past 10 years, there has been tangible progress locally in terms of racial equity, from gained Black political power, to increased accountability in policing, to a stronger focus on investing in communities that have been left behind.

鈥淚鈥檓 more hopeful than I was 10 years ago,鈥� says Jason Purnell, president of the James S. McDonnell Foundation.

Months before Brown was killed, Purnell released the landmark 鈥�For the Sake of All鈥� report, highlighting health disparities among Black and white residents in the 蜜芽传媒 region. One of the values of the Ferguson protests, Purnell says now, is the massive gain in comprehension of racial disparities and how they鈥檝e persisted for decades.

鈥淲e鈥檙e not going to go back,鈥� Purnell says. 鈥淲e鈥檙e not going to go back to, 鈥業 didn鈥檛 know.鈥欌��

On that day in church 10 years ago, I knew. I knew that Ferguson had changed the 蜜芽传媒 area forever, as so many of us opened our eyes to the injustices around us. I could wipe away my tears, but I could not turn away.