Skip to main content

Turning In My Human Card

If every person had to have a card, say, a "human card," to be part of this species, today would be the day I'd turn it in. I'd go to God's counter, turn in my card, and say, "I don't want to be affiliated with a species that kidnaps and murders its young. I want to join up with the manatees. They're fat and peaceful, just like me. I could learn to be down with vegetarianism again. Plus, I like Florida."

Yesterday authorities found the body of Sandra Cantu, an 8 year-old Tracy, California girl last seen on a home security video skipping happily home. It would be the last visual of her.

Her body was found eight days later in an irrigation pool, stuffed in a suitcase.

I, like many other northern Californians, had hoped against hope that this child would be returned. That she'd find her way home. It was not to be.

Today an autopsy will be performed. I can't bear to know what some monster did to this child. That she is no longer with us is hard enough to bear.

I swear, if I ever get to heaven, the three things I want to ask God are: 1) My mom and my dad -- how did THAT happen? 2) Slavery and The Holocaust -- were you on vacation or what? and 3) Help me understand a world in which cruelty to children happens, because I can't comprehend it, can't fathom it, can't imagine that there's any explanation that even You can provide.

I guess this is one of those days in which I have to "lean not to my own understanding."

But if I had a human card, I'd turn it in today.

Pray for Sandra, folks. Pray that she didn't suffer and that she is at the foot of her Maker.

Comments

Nicely said BWB! I turned my card this past Saturday. I also have some thoughts on this as well.

Popular posts from this blog

When You Leave The Ghetto, Don't Bring It With You

NBA player Gilbert Arenas brings a gun to an NBA locker room. NBA player Ron Artest lets his pit bulls run wild and free in Loomis, California while playing for the Sacramento Kings. NFL player Michael Vick did time for fighting dogs. And NFL player Plaxico Burress is doing time for shooting his damn self.

What do all these men have in common? BMNB would say an inability to make a profound paradigm shift. I’m less eloquent than BMNB is, so I’ll say it differently: The inability to leave the ghetto behind.

Yes, call me saditty, bourgie, elitist, stuck-up, whatever. I don’t care. Until you’ve had a tweaker ruin your Thanksgiving turkey, you don’t even know (more on that later), and I’m not trying to hear you.

Living in Western Placer County, my husband and I continue to hear stories from folks like us who had to flee “those who can’t leave the ghetto behind.” You know these people, and they come in all races. In our case, we had returned to Sacramento in 2004 and 2005, respective…

Black Woman Blogging's Gun Control Proposal

Thanks to a relative who sent me death threats, I became a gun owner. Reluctantly.  What can I say.  You don't choose your family.

That said, I'm for gun control.

As far as I'm concerned, America lost its moral compass when we didn't do squat after Sandy Hook.  If you can allow a madman to murder children and not be moved to do nothing, you have no moral compass.  Period.

Now that we've broken an unfortunate record for the number of people killed in a mass shooting, perhaps we as a country are ready to get our minds right about gun control.  Perhaps.  So in that spirit, I offer my gun control proposal.

First, we need to agree on some real (not alternative) facts and principles:

1.  There is no such thing as an unlimited right.  Yes, people, there are no unlimited rights protected under the Constitution.  Your right to free speech?  Well, not all speech is protected under the First Amendment and even protected speech can be limited by time, place and manner.  Your…

Retired Man Walking: Too Young to Retire, Too Old to Take Shit

A while back I ran into a friend and fellow professional employed by the State of California, and he offered me his perspective on State employment as a tail-end Baby Boomer like myself -- someone who can't retire because he lacks the requisite age or years of service, but, unlike myself, is tired of taking shit from superiors who don't know what to do with you.

Although my friend gave his permission for me to use his name in this blog entry, I decline to do so because what he does is so specialized that it would not be hard for anyone to identify him as one of the few African American men, if not the only African-American man, in California state civil service who does what he does. For purposes of this blog entry, I will refer to him as he now refers to himself:  Retired Man Walking.

Retired Man Walking, or RMW, has an interesting philosophy he applies to working for the State as a professional who isn't old enough to retire but has been around long enough to know the s…