Am I Living In Vain? Protest Prayers

The beautiful turn out in Florence, South Carolina to fight against systematic racism and police brutality was one my generation has never witnessed. To be in the presence of my young comrades of BLM was inspiring. And the first day of civil protest down Irby Street in front of judiciary buildings with chants of “no justice, no peace” and “the people united, shall never be defeated”, were reminders of those that led before us. All ethnicities joined in!!! The spirit to rise wasn’t dead, as we echoed “Black Lives Matter” and officers stood in salute of us. 

But the Clark Sisters anthem kept creeping in my mind; “Am I living in vain . . .” because by day two of protesting, my voice was gone. I didn’t have another clean black shirt to protest in and the sweet from the southern heat soaked like grease over my brow. I was tired, my breathing was bad yet I needed to speak, as I had missed mentioning Black Line News the day before, arriving late into Florence. My message was simple; we have to not only protest and pray but take a seat at the table. We have to put our resources together. 

I have to be honest, as clergy, I was upset with clergy for ignoring women in ministry like me, standing up not only for George Floyd but Breyonna Taylor and Atatiana Taylor. I was frustrated how they were not acknowledging these young leaders out of BLM and other organizations. I was pissed how some hogged the mic to build their congregations and not truly feel the hurt of Black Men, Black Women, Black Children. I was disappointed in the sisters that rather be “salvage” than a “soldiers”. Those women that cut their eyes at me when I said, “hey sis” at the protest, maybe because I didn’t wear a black shirt . . . maybe because I’m a intellect and not an idiot. My shirt was boldly and defiantly pink though. I’m a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Inc. and all I had was pink. Ugggggggg!!! I didn’t plan on staying two days. As I walked down the street, I asked an older Black barber can I take his picture. He was old school but his shop was classy. He refused, saying he wanted no trouble. This set the tone for me. So, I rolled up to the protest, mad being at a freakin’ march alone. At any rate it wasn’t about me. It was about the blood. The blood shed by Sandra Bland and Tamir Rice, won’t be in vain. 

And just like that God started sending angles. I knew no one in the crowd but was greeted so kindly by 3 members of “OutKast”, a local bikers group. Then my cousin Melia, who is only 15 appeared and stayed with me as I expressed my phone was about to be dead. And before I had a chance to feel any other disappointment in my own people, Ms. Lethonia Peaches Barnes got up on the mic and spoke so eloquently. I wrote a piece about her in the upcoming elections, followed by Teressa Myers Ervin both who I am so proud to support. I wasn’t alone at all in Florence. So, I boldly approached Pastor Willie D. Bacote to speak, expressing to him that I had to go home but I need to say something and just like God’s angels do, he swooped me up and got me on that trailer back to speak. My voice crackled. The crowd knew I was an outsider but I said what I said and left the protest wanting more.

That was when God sent the lead angel, Ms. Jackie Myers to me. Draped in a poncho of the American flag, holding the SC flag in her hand and a cap saying her name, she was beauty walking, a movement in her own right. Just like a prophet she filled me with encouragement. She told me that she marched these same streets, over the same bridge that we had marched over in 1974. She said she was proud of me. What she didn’t know was behind my mask I cried but she walked with me back to our separation point. She removed all the disappointment I felt in the church and all the sadness I had from the sisters. I knew her presence was just confirmation to continue. I knew she was an assignment. We exchanged numbers so I could get her full story. 

And I left everyone with my number. Everyone. It’s time to organize. It’s time to sit at the table. In the words of Ms. Jackie Myers, “I see the change”. “Cause up the road is eternal gain.”