I’m Tired Of Writing About Dead Black Girls
I’ve been writing about dead black women and girls for the last eight years, and it never gets any easier. I’ve waded through the abbreviated lives of young women like Rekia Boyd and Renisha McBride and Reggina Jefferies and Hannah Bell and Mujey Dumbuya, or the countless black women killed by their partners each year.
Although bearing witness to these women’s murders is often gut-wrenching and exhausting, it’s also necessary. Because if we (black women writers) aren’t telling these stories, they often don’t get told at all.
Last week, 18-year-old Nia Wilson became the latest viral hashtag after she and her sister, Lahtifa, were “blindsided by a maniac” and brutally stabbed on a Bay Area Rapid Transit train platform. As news of Nia’s murder spread, many rightly demanded justice. Mourners in her hometown marched from the MacArthur BART station where she was killed to downtown Oakland, calling for law enforcement to act.