Content warning: This email includes extended and detailed discussion of police murders, police brutality, and violence against Black and brown bodies.

Dear Indivisibles, 

Hello. We are Indivisible’s Black Caucus.

We’re organizers, communicators, policy buffs, and more. Some of us meet with Indivisible groups every day, or show up on TV a lot. You may have never heard from others. But we all wanted to send you this email together today, a few minutes after the conclusion of arguments in Derek Chauvin’s trial for the murder of George Floyd. 

We may not know the verdict for a while, but even the fact that this trial happened at all is historic -- all too often, police who murder Black folks like us are never brought to trial at all. And when police are arrested, convictions are even rarer: between 2005 and 2019, of 104 arrests of officers who killed someone, only 35 were convicted of anything and only four were convicted of murder. 

What a painful thing it is, that just a trial, not even a conviction, is rare and a cause for celebration. 

Just as painful is that when Chauvin murdered George Floyd, he wasn’t one bad apple or a lone wolf. He was part of a thick chain of state officials who’ve brutalized and murdered Black and brown bodies -- bodies like ours -- for generations. 

George Floyd’s girlfriend was Daunte Wright’s teacher. 
Caron Nazario considered Eric Garner his uncle. 
Fred Hampton’s mother babysat Emmett Till.

In the past week alone, we’ve seen horrifying video footage of police gunning down thirteen-year-old seventh grader Adam Toledo while he had his hands in the air. We watched the disturbing recording of uniformed Army 2nd Lt. Caron Nazario keeping heartbreaking, remarkable composure while Virginia police pepper sprayed him in his new car. We heard a police officer responsible for training other officers claim to "mistake" her gun for a taser as she shot Daunte Wright to death. Even as the Chauvin trial forces us to relive the trauma of the nine minutes and 29 seconds George Floyd spent with a knee on his neck, we are witnessing new trauma, new deaths, new families torn apart. 

We should not be here. Police should not play judge, jury, or executioner, let alone all three. 

As Black activists, we’re often at the forefront of this work, putting our own bodies on the line, often literally, to fight for liberation. We’re proud of our Blackness, proud of our activism, proud of our work. And we’re also tired. 

Because this month, this year, this decade, this country, have been brutal to Black bodies. Time and time again, the structural racism built into our country’s very foundations -- the foundations that said a Black man was worth only ⅗ of a white one -- rears its head. In ways as dramatic as livestreams of murders and as slyly insidious as a remark on how “articulate” we are, we’re subjected over and over, every day, to reminders that we’re seen as less than. 

If you are a Black member of the Indivisible movement, this part of the message is for you: 

We are with you. We feel your pain and your anger and we hold space for them both in equal measure. If a break from the news will help you, we encourage you to step back in this moment, prioritize your need for rest. If you’re someone who’d rather keep busy and jump into action, we’ll be here too for that, ready to support your work each day. 

We hold space for you to do what will help you in this moment, and to prioritize your needs to process and heal. And we invite you to join our monthly POC Caucus calls, as well as reach out at pocorganizers@indivisible.org.

Finally, several of us found this PDF resource very helpful. It provides some practical suggestions for family-care, community-care and self-care in the face of cultural trauma, and was published by the Community Healing Network and the Association of Black Psychologists.

Everyone else, this part of the message is for you:

Today, we ask you to bear witness to this pain and join in our mourning. Even as we hope against hope for a just outcome, we’re asking you to recommit to the work of building a criminal justice system that makes justice a reality for all. Black lives matter, and it's time our government and law enforcement reflected that. We need you to take your antiracism out of the abstract and put it to work in your life. Our lives depend on it.

And for all of us: 

We join with activists, victims, allies, and partner organizations to ask everyone to be mindful on social media and refrain from linking to images of any of these horrific incidents. Out of respect for those affected by these acts of violence, we recommend against sharing these traumatic videos and instead focus on lifting up the right voices, taking the right actions, and supporting the right organizations. 

Never in the history of America have Black folks been given enough time to mourn before the next killing. Enough time to recover before the next attack. 

We’ve never been given enough time to breathe. 

In solidarity, and pain,

The Indivisible Black Caucus