We are collectively more upset about disrespecting our flag than we are about people being treated as second-class citizens and shamefully, often being killed. We’re willing to hear them out and fix the problem, we say, but only when the black people find a better means of telling us about the problem that we already know about.
At the end of the day, when the concern over respect for a flag is greater than our concern for people’s lives or when it’s even an issue when people are saying, ‘stop killing us’, we’re shining an ugly light on ourselves. Instead of standing with people who feel so disenfranchised by their own country that they can’t stand for the flag, we demand respect from a group of people who’ve been stomped on for generations before we’ll consider not stomping on them anymore.
I say this to my fellow Americans, if you’re angry about people kneeling during the National Anthem, maybe it’s time to stop and think about how marginalized and angry they have to be to refuse to stand. Think about the pride you have in your country, and then be ashamed of how that country treats some of its own people. Wearethat problem. And it’s time for us to do something about it instead of policing the tone of the people who are suffering.”
Victor, not expecting to the room to erupt with applause, sighed and took a step back from the podium. Renee stepped up a whispered in his ear.
“You love to make me earn this money, don’t you?”
Victor turned to her with a smirk. “That’s why you get paid the big bucks,” he teased.
“Great speech, Governor, but your white brethren are gonna be gunning for you.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Victor muttered.
Victor and Renee’s conversation ended when the room when eerily silent. The sound of phones ringing and buzzing reverberated throughout the press room. That kind of buzz meant a breaking story.
“Go, now, Governor,” Renee urged.
If it was breaking news and they both knew that any statements made or answers to questions would be unprepared and straight off the cuff.
Victor turned and hurried out of the press room. But not before he heard a reporter shouting at his back.
“Governor Creed, did you know that your wife was alive?”
Stunned by the question, Victor stumbled, thankfully, out of view of the cameras. He was rushed into a small office by Gregor. Renee was on his heels. In the past, she had never been anything but composed. But, as she stared at the breaking story on her iPad, her demeanor bordered around panicky.
“Governor, please tell me that you are just as shocked as I am. Tell me that you didn’t know anything about this,” she demanded.
Victor couldn’t lie. “I knew she was alive,” he admitted.
“What the fuck?!” Renee exclaimed.
Victor was taken aback. He’d never heard his press secretary use profanity. She was the epitome of calm rationality.
“What the fuck am I doing here? Why wouldn’t you tellme? This is some bullshit, Victor!”
Yep, that calm rationality shit just went out the window.
Victor knew that Renee was fuming because it was the first time that she’d addressed him so informally. She tossed the iPad on a table and pulled out her phone. She dialed hysterically and pressed the phone to her ear. “Cameron, my office now!” she shouted into her phone.
Cameron was Renee’s assistant. She ended the call and stuffed her phone in her briefcase. She turned to Victor and sat down in a chair at the table. Renee inhaled a deep breath and then exhaled it. After gathering her composure, she grabbed the iPad and handed it to Victor.
Victor looked at the picture and gasped. “What the fuck is…what the fuck is she doing?”
“She’s shopping at Tiffany’s,” Renee scoffed.
“I don’t…I gotta make a call.”
“First, I need you to tell meeverything,” Renee requested calmly.
