This morning, a mass shooting occurred in my parent’s neighborhood. By the afternoon, we were anxiously awaiting a verdict that we knew would not mean justice. 4 hours after that, we cried as we learned of Ma’Khia’s murder.

I am Black.
I’m American.
I’m exhausted.

I will be expected to “arrive” to work in the morning. I will have to nod, as onlookers say, “If there’s anything we can do...” And then moments later hurry into their expectations, “But...about this contract...”

I will be expected to function. To be high functioning.

It is the American expectation to confine the deaths I’m still mourning...

the COVID-19 deaths
the targets of supremacists
the victims of infantilized shooters
the prey of wrath

...into a bereavement period
a cog
a wheel

whatever keeps capitalism spinning while we die.