Thang Nguyen 555

Born to run. Born in the USA. Born to be wild. Born to be Black.

We sing and swing, party and celebrate. Music unites us. Sports do too. Then we unite in the face of common enemies e.g. WWII, Nam, Iraq, Afghanistan (Contras in between) as the most integrated US troop.

Despite being born – not of our own choice – with a different set of genes, we all bleed red (although 11 per cent in population, Blacks in combat during Vietnam was a whopping 26 per cent).

No need to look hard into the future – man working with machine – which promises a chicken in the pot and a Chevy (EV) in the drive-way, living on the high-tech reservation, and playing penny slots against .. AI machine in a game of Go..

Our faith has been mis-placed. Instead of valuing and respecting our fellow men, we bet our humanity on machinations.

We have low regard for Emotional Intelligence and high regard for Artificial Intelligence. Machine isn’t programmed to tell us straight into the camera as the Rev. “sharp-tongue” Sharpton did, in regards to our being short on humanity.

During the early months of the pandemic, there was a sudden change in our habitat, so quiet and unusual that shy animals would venture out (deers and rabbits) onto paved roads (lions too) until our man-made disaster (choke hold) reclaims the pavement with protesters.

Protesters brave infection, rubber bullets and “vicious dogs”. (Personally I felt shameful back when young high-schoolers stood up to resist school shooting and climate change). Are these issues ones that affect me? That I care about?

All the ventilators in the world, invoked by the War Production Act, did not help. “I can’t breathe”.

Mama. Maman. Me Oi!

George Floyd, me, you, were loved once. We were fed and loved. All that lovin. He and I might not come across as lovable to you. But each of us is loved, deeply at least by one other human being, who gave us life, not taking it.

All that lovin. All those hopes and time spent while it rained outside. All the little chastising, tough-loving:” Be a good boy”, “Be somebody when you grow up”…..In other words, be better than your very present self. Reach for the stars, for True North.

Each of us is a narrative. Some lives are cut short. Others die of old age. But the common thread is there: we share Mother Earth, each has a “Mama” that towering figure we often revered and respected.

All I am asking is..at the very least, work on your story. Make sure to straighten your records: we are not born into this world to cause troubles, to take life, but to add to it, making it more beautiful and abundant.

” And I think to myself, what a wonderful world…” If it were a machine killing man, then we called it “industrial mishaps”. But then, machine could never move me with its refrain “…and I think to myself, ‘What a wonderful world’”…