We Are Not Safe

It’s the eve of my 30th birthday and Black man has been murdered. As a suburban Black woman I am no stranger to the awkward aftermath of these tragedies. I grew up in Mequon WI, a suburb of Milwaukee and upon reflection navigated many an awkward, microagressive, to full on racist interaction - whether or not I realized it.

The thing about my suburban Milwaukee upbringing is, I learned you arent really safe anywhere. Sure,  there are places you feel more comfortable in, but get the wrong Karen and a power tripping cop, and suddenly you feel unsafe.

When I  finished my Masters, I was entertaining jobs between Chicago and Madison. Not once did I consider my own safety as Black, but more as a woman. And there are many places surrounding Madison that I will never consider safe for my family. No matter the affordability, school district, or space.

Safety is an inaccessible privilege for Midwestern Black people.

When I compare Madison to Milwaukee I find the former to be wrestling between authentic and well meaning progressivism and a deep disdain for change and diversity. But I’m not surprised.

Just as I’m not surprised Madison police murdered yet another black man.

I’m unsurprised, I’m sad, and I’m scared.

I am raising a little Black boy in extreme close proximity to damn police training facility in Fitchburg. I am terrified that on our drives home, our walks to the park, we might be harassed and harmed for simply existing, making our comfortable space no longer one. I hear echoes of Tamir Rice being murdered because he was mistaken for an adult with a gun, and Ahmad Arbery for merely jogging while Black.

We are not safe. We are not safe. We are not safe.

But what are we do? Pray? Protest? Move?

We need change, Madison needs to do better.