I have been reading Charles Dickens’s Oliver Twist. Dickens describes England in the mid 1800’s. Orphan children were a worthless burden to society. They were fed as little as possible in the hope that they will die at an early age – of natural causes, of course – and therefore stop costing society (the Church of England at the time) for their care. As I read, I am thinking, not so much about Oliver, who manages to survive, but about all the other children who ended up in Mr. Sowerberry’s (sounds like sour berry) little, cheap coffin.
Then, over a century and a half later, in a town called Sanford, in a so called civilized nation named the United States of America -because it is comprised of many states, in a vast continent, and beyond; with different laws and different ways of interpreting those laws- a child is killed, gun down by a merciless soul. The police authority decides that since the child is black it was OK for the killer to go his merry way, without interrogation, without confiscating the gun, without making a background check, without administering a drug test (all the procedures that at the beginning of 21st Century the authorities have at there disposal and are required to follow) But, the child was black. What was the police authority thinking? He is black. No one will claim him. There goes one less headache for society. Call Mr. Sowerberry he can supply a cheap pine coffin.
It is sickening and it hurts all the way to the remnant of my human soul.
I should have been in Sanford tonight where people gathered to protest another unspeakable injustice in our United States of America.
Are we ever going to learn?