Lament for a Life

This piece was written by Jennifer Copeland, Executive Director, in conjunction with Jessica Stokes, Associate Director of Partners in Health and Wholeness.

For 85 years the North Carolina Council of Churches has worked to address racial inequality. In fact, it was the reason for our inception. Our founder believed that churches working together could bring about justice for those who were being unjustly treated because of the color of their skin.

The news of the past week belies the sad truth that decades of work has not brought us very far. Fear of dark skin oozes through our communities as evidenced by the video that shows two white men shooting a black man because he is jogging through the neighborhood.

In the face of more of the same news with different details nearly everyday, I write to share with you a statement from the National Council of Churches. The N.C. Council of Churches have long been allies of the National Council in their ongoing work to expose systemic racism.

I also write to share with you a lament, penned by a staff member here at the N.C. Council of Churches. A runner herself, Jessica offers words to the pain and frustration that, for most of us, is beyond words.

“Ahmaud Arbery”
by The Reverend Jessica Stokes, North Carolina Council of Churches

Running, blood swiftly moving within
A strong heart, beating with cadence, matching his able-body
Lungs full of fresh air, mind clearing with dopamine
To be Ahmaud Arbery’s body- jogging on a sunny day

Feel the intermittent shade and sun, picking up speed on the cement
Muscles tightening, stamina and endurance compensating
Running for moments clarity, for self-care, solitude
To be Ahmaud Arbery’s body- jogging on a sunny day

The heart rate skyrockets, is it the run or is it the gun?
No longer a runner’s exertion but now fight or flight
Calves tightening, breath shortens, muscles screaming
Suddenly running for life, not solitude
Fighting for life, not breath

To be Ahmaud Arbery, fighting for his life, on a sunny day
A young black man, existing, breathing, jogging, and yet too much
For white supremacists, in their sin and godlessness 
On a sunny day

To be Ahmaud Arbery any moment in this country
With no sense of what might come around each curve
Waiting, stalking, threatening to enforce written and unwritten codes
For anyone not white

With bodies, strong, pulsing, taking each day
Occupying space, breathing, 
For Ahmaud,
There is no such thing as a jog
On a sunny day