Alton Sterling. The 500-and-something-ith person killed by the police in 2016.

Here I am again, sitting at work on the heels of another highly publicized assassination of the beauty that is black human life. I walked into the office somberly though still carrying a corporate grin, and was, as usual, greeted by many of those that look nothing like me.

“Happy Wednesday!” – They

“What did you have for dinner last night?” – They

“Any plans this weekend?” – They

I sarcastically said in my head, “trying to stay alive,” but somehow it escaped my lips as, “Happy Wednesday, no major plans.” As we all fail to acknowledge what covered our media outlets as we prepared for our day.

Now please digest this fully – the aforementioned folks that look nothing like me are not bad people, at all. But police brutality falls into the bucket as “tough conversations to have in the workplace,” so my expectation of acknowledging this news is always too high. For me, ignoring social injustices seems to only be the icing on top of the socially unjust cake.

*takes a deep breath*

Alton Sterling. A 37-year-old father of five.

Corporate America is often a challenging place to be black *sigh,* especially after overt inequity and public execution covers our social media like an unkempt cover. One minute I’m being told to update a pivot table, the next minute I’m perusing articles highlighting how my freedom is still only three-fifths of what it ought to be. Balancing the rigor of the work day with the rigor of organizing my thoughts is and has always been a struggle – and a cubicle is the last place I want to do it in.

In the break room, we comfortability talk about the egregious NBA contracts and the audacity of Kanye West to display the nude replica bodies of modern celebrities in his art. Though neither NBA offseason nor Ye’s video production affect our cash flow, we are disastrously uncomfortable talking about topics that affect our existence.

Alton Sterling. Six shots later.

In order to understand the value of black human life, must we equate the slaughtered potential to the dollars being passed around in NBA contracts or padding the pockets of entertainers?

In order to appreciate the artistry that is black human life, must we broadcast these ill attempts to ruin us on the sides of buildings in the night like the latest music videos?

If marching on the streets won’t end this genocide, then what will? Because our feet are callused from marching.

If hashtags flooding the internet won’t bring awareness, then what will? Because our thoughts are drowning in retweets.

*One more deep breath*

It’s easy to get worked up, to be uncomfortable — hell, to be angry. To protect the power, solidarity and beauty of our blackness it is integral that we decompress, acknowledge the realness of the world we’re in, voice our opinion and be intentional.

Decompress.

Though your coworkers might not want to talk to you about this topic: Talk, tweet, write, vent or do whatever you need to do to protect your mental health. Our psyche has been repetitively stricken with images and rhetoric that we are not important, that we are not valuable, and that we don’t matter — it’s important to know that we do.

Understand that this is real.

I accidentally watched the Alton Sterling video this morning; not knowing the specifics of the altercation and only seeing the hashtag covering my Instagram feed. I wasn’t ready, but that is when I again realized — this is not a drill, this is real. The dichotomy of the anguish of witnessing an unjust death coupled with truly understanding the realness of the situation is difficult, but real.

Have an opinion.

I live right around the corner from an airport. I used to hear planes roar over my apartment every 30 minutes, but weeks later I no longer hear them. How can something so loud, be so quiet?

Although social media quickly brings awareness to issues that would often be swept under the rug, it also has a way of deafening the issues due to lost souls turning into mere hashtags. We see hashtag after hashtag after hashtag, and the reality of life lost is reduced to tweets and texts. The easiest way to keep this issue loud is to keep the conversation going and having an opinion.What you do with your opinion is up to you, just have one and be intentional with it.

To Alton Sterling, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Freddie Gray, Michael Brown, Walter Scott and all the black gold that has been buried — you will forever be treasured.

To all of you — be blessed, be safe, protect each other and protect your health.

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Brandon Miller

Writing since June 2016 · 1 story contributed