How Black Folks Feel About Trump’s Attempted Assassination

Somebody Come Look At This Shit 🙄

Yesterday my husband and I gathered with some of our closest friends to kick off our monthly link ups. We are parents, professionals, and people with differing calendars so it was a big deal and truly a blessing for us to gather. We were looking forward to eating, drinking, playing games, and shooting the shit. Had no idea the Shit would get shot though…

As the news rippled through the room, a room full of Black people and our lovely Latina sister Selena, I watched how the same three emotions pulsed through us all: 1) shock 2) curiosity and 3) be fucking for real. Now, is the latter an actual emotion? No, it’s not…but y’all know exactly what I mean! (& if you don’t…you may be in the wrong space pooh 😕).

The shock lasted about 3.2 seconds. We were certainly hitting the Flava Flav “woooooooooooow!” until our brains, hearts, spirts, and histories caught up with our mouths. Of course somebody is shooting at Trump! I mean, most of us have dreamt about throwing hands with dude. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of us have entertained the thought of him no longer being here either. The initial shock was confusing though because we weren’t really shocked that he was targeted; we were shocked that his Whiteness, in all its glory, had been threatened in such a grandiose manner.

Let me be clear. We, as Black people, absolutely want Whiteness and its main representatives to be targeted and threatened. It’s what we feel every. damn. day. Targeted by society for exploitation and blame. Threatened so much so that we live as smaller versions of ourselves for the sake of safety, survival, and sanity. We for sure want people like Trump to get even a tad bit of what he has dished out over the years. However, very rarely does that happen…on both a macro and micro level. The last president that was shot was Reagan in 1981. My crew and I weren’t born yet, so this feels novel to us. Bush was also targeted and threatened when someone threw a grenade at him in 2005. It didn’t go off though.. which seems befitting for our 43rd president. God speed to that man..

On a smaller scale, the white folks in our everyday lives walk around like they own the place.. which they kind of do according to the capitalistic structure, racial hierarchy, and rules we continue to play by. They are rarely, if ever, targeted for exploitation and aren’t usually threatened unless there are too many of US around, or we are having too much fun, or not being considerate of them, or.. whatever the many Karens and Bobs tend to fuss about regarding us just existing. So, to hear that someone was on some “off with his head” shit, was indeed wild. Like pinch me, someone, with resources and the identity to even try to pull this off, gets it?? (Y’all KNOW the assailant was a white man without even googling him).

Now, here is the section of the post where one would express how they don’t condone violence and that they don’t wish death on people. However, I am not people babyyyyy and my people been through hell and back to wake up still in hell with a glass of water so.. I’m not here to comfort you. What I can say is that I personally don’t desire to kill anyone. As a licensed therapist, survivor of the hood, and believer, I know how blood on your hands can fuck your mental up and change your spirit. I am a firm believer in you reap what you sow and seeds of hate, arrogance, ignorance, racism, classism, “insert fucked up perspective/system here” that Donald has re-planted positions him to absolutely reap a harvest of darkness.

After the initial shock came the complex curiosity. Variations of “lemme see this shit” radiated through the room and we hesitantly turned on one of the news channels.

Disclaimer: I straight up stopped watching the news when Trump was elected in 2016. I was a graduate student for my counseling degree and was enrolled in a group therapy class. My professor literally stopped curriculum for weeks and let us vent, cry, and sit in silence to try to grapple with the reality of America being Amerikkka. I decided then that I would not consume propaganda intentionally and daily anymore. Shout out to Dr. Shenay Bridges. She was a Black woman and pregnant with twins at the time. Her approach to cultivating space for us changed my life and career. Thank you, sis.

So, as we watched Fox/Abc/CNN or whatever we turned on, we locked in. We, a group of educated Black (& Brown) Millennials, had a desire to investigate what happened to this fool. We wanted the details, like most in our generation do, of who, what, when, and where, as we already knew the why. Everybody knows WHY. We heard Trump’s report of hearing “whizzing” and feeling his skin rip. We saw folks in those ugly ass MAGA hats looking confused and then going out of the line of sight as they ducked for safety. We felt this weird rush of adrenaline from the reporters as well as from each other. Then… we saw this…

Curiosity killed the cat and we were ushered into a room of lip smacking, sighs, and rolling eyes; also known as be fucking for real. *sigh* Now I know there are amazing photographers out there who do their jobs damn well. But it wasn’t only the picture with the flag perfectly draped in the background on the gorgeous blue sky that ruffled our feathers. It was the fist, lifted in pride and strength. It’s Trump’s posture, damn near triumphant. And it was certainly that little ass amount of blood on his ear that sent me, in particular. Say what you want, but it all just simply irked us. We immediately went into conspiracy theory mode and were convinced that this was staged. I mean, look at this picture! We also instantly felt sorrow, even though no one in the room would have presently called it that. Looking at this picture, we knew that this moment was a game changer for Trump’s campaign. If his followers thought he was the man before, he was now a victim, a survivor, and a martyr.

Whatever curse word you just said in your head, I second that..

The people cheering him on, celebrating with him, jumping up, and smiling are all so disturbing to me. If you look closely there is someone with the symbol for love in ASL lifted with both hands. Like, be fucking for real. I’m sickened, but not surprised. The room of oppressed peoples chittered and chattered a while longer about this being a stunt and/or a very strategic use of this event. We quickly got exasperated and hit a metaphorical brick wall. It often feels like our hands are tied and that we don’t have any real power. Some would question if that is just a feeling or reality..

Bonus: I’m also pissed because the raised fist is a sign of empowerment for my community. Black people can’t have nothing (yes, double negatives). He could have just put up the Nazi salute and stoping playing around. But, that would be too much like right.

Feeling helpless, hopeless, and powerless is nothing new to Black folks. I won’t use this post to prove that point with hard facts; I invite you to a simple google search if you need “evidence” that Black people have struggled and continue to be toyed with in this country as well having to survive the anti-black sentiment around the world. I will not say that the Black people I experienced this historic moment alongside were happy that Trump got shot. I believe we were very far from happiness last night. But, I won’t lie and say it didn’t feel good to imagine Trump feeling helpless, hopeless, and powerless.. for even a second, like we do every damn day.

& with that, y’all want something from the store? I refuse to perseverate on this longer than I have to.

With love & respect,

Red