Lullaby in Ferguson by Stephane Dunn

Lullaby in Ferguson by Stephane Dunn | NewBlackMan (in Exile)
“We didn’t have to be shot down with no tear gas.”
This from “Alisha Williams,” a protester in Ferguson, a veteran who survived Iraq. “I did ten years in the military, just came back from Iraq. I didn’t get tear gassed in Iraq. But I’m on city streets getting tear gassed,” her hoarse voice folds into sobs over the phone before the world Sunday night.
A man has been shot, hurt, brought down with a parade of rubber bullets. His hands were up, but he wouldn’t turn around, wouldn’t stop marching. For Michael Brown, because all of them, he didn’t stop.
Tiananmen Square 1989.
I’m sitting on the couch, watching the news, flipping from one news channel to another, and reading reports on the computer. I’m not there. I want to be there. I’m glad I’m not there. I need to be there.
Ferguson is everywhere in the United States, under thin surfaces waiting to crack and shatter revealing that it is. Breaking news tags punctuate Alisha’s voice. Michael Brown’s autopsy results are back. Shot six times, two in the head. Alisha dissolves into incomprehensible sobs, the CNN news reporter moves on, a lady is saying there have been other young black men shot by police over these last seven days. One in Ohio, one in. . . Stop.
A protester, another black woman at the scene, this time on television bears witness. “We not stopping,” she shouts and shouts again.   
Red Summer 1919.
It’s late, almost midnight. I’m tired, recovering from a cold. I should sleep, but I stay awake, my weak solidarity with the familiar folk I see on the TV covering their faces as best they can with elbows, bandannas, shirts. A thick curl of smoke builds, gathers force, and races down a street towards protesters. The talking heads all have an opinion, many experienced law folk, police officers, analysts, former captains and such. Stop.  
The us and them hangs loudly in their “objective” voices.“ One justifies the use of the gas. The police can’t separate the troublemakers from the peaceful ones so that’s just how it’s gotta be, he concludes, not a hint of sorry about it. People are still out there though, their signs in the air, ‘Stop Killing Us’. “Hands up: Don’t Shoot!”
Bloody Sunday 1965.            
12:30 Am. Breaking News: things seem to be settling down; the police enforce curfew. Stop...I should, I want to sleep. Ferguson, Missouri isn’t sleeping.
Now, 2014.
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Stephane Dunn, PhD, is a writer who directs the Cinema, Television, & Emerging Media Studies program at Morehouse College. She teaches film, creative writing, and literature. She is the author of the 2008 book, Baad Bitches & Sassy Supermamas: Black Power Action Films (U of Illinois Press). Her writings have appeared in Ms., The Chronicle of Higher Education, TheRoot.com, AJC, CNN.com, and Best African American Essays, among others. Her recent work includes the Bronze Lens-Georgia Lottery Lights, Camera Georgia winning short film Fight for Hope and book chapters exploring representation in Tyler Perry's films. Follow her on Twitter: @DrStephaneDunn