Coronavirus Pandemic Day 82 - And the U.S. Burns

His name was George Floyd. We watched a police officer grin gleefully while he crushed the neck of Mr. Floyd in the street gutter for no other reason than he could. And snuffing out his life was simply the last straw in a string of incidents over the last few months.

Genius Kid called Saturday night, upset and worried. Have you seen anything like this? What about the spread of COVID among the protestors?

My response--yes, I have, but what's the difference if you're going to suffocate from a police officer kneeling in your neck or suffocate from the effects of the disease?

Maybe that's why I write books with casts of different races, religions, and genders. I have seen this before. Too many times. Some of my earliest memories is of the 1968 riots. Of Dr. King's and Mr. Kennedy's assassinations. I didn't understand why adults kept telling me to share and get along with other kids when they obviously couldn't do it amongst themselves.

For the last sixteen years, other writers have told me not to talk politics. On the other hand, I'm accused of writing political propaganda by simply creating diverse cast of characters in my stories. I think deep down the race issue is why I created Justice Anthea. With her infrared vision, she quite literally cannot see skin color. It's a challenge writing books from her point of view. It also throws off a lot of assumptions and conventions I didn't realize I had until I stepped into her boots.

I want to write stories about people working together. About people getting along for the greater good. About people who stop and listen and don't make assumptions.

And I'm going to continue writing those stories. Maybe someone will listen. I can't stop the country from burning, but if one person realizes they can make a difference, then hopefully, the next one will, too. And the next one. And the next.

Until no one has to worry about going outside to enjoy the glorious summer sunshine because they're not going to die in the gutter.