Crime

“Those who kill their own children and discriminate daily against them because of the colour of their skin; those who let the murderers of blacks remain free, protecting them, and furthermore punishing the black population because they demand their legitimate rights as free men — how can those who do this consider themselves guardians of freedom?” Ernesto “Che” Guevara, 1964 Why is this still true today? More than 50 years ago, this speech was made, and yet still, the same problem remains. Don’t let the media fool you. Don’t let the police fool you. I have heard many a statement which proposes “firm action soon”, and that this “problem cannot remain”. Nobody is doing anything about this. How many more black people are going to die before someone in power changes the law, or brings...
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Lieber Dietmar Knöchelmann, es gab nur uns. WIr waren eine Einheit. Als Kinder waren wir, gerade mal 6 Jahre alt, gemeinsam im Spessart unterwegs. Wir haben den Wald geliebt. Deine und meine Eltern waren Freunde. Bis zu dem Tag als mein Vater starb, und meine Mutter Deinen Vater für seinen Tod verantwortlich machte. In der Tat war es unsere Schuld. Es war Deine idee den Schacht im Wald runterzuklettern. Es wahr eine alte verschlossene Miene. Du hattest sie gefunden, aber die kleine Stahltür wahr verschlossen. Trotzdem hast Du es irgendwie geschafft die Tür aufzumachen und bist eingestiegen. Du hattest noch nicht mal eine Taschenlampe. Es waren noch keine 2 Minuten bis ich Deine Hilferufe hörte. Ich rannte so schnell ich konnte in die naheliegende Kneipe. Es war Sonntag Morgen und...
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To whom it may concern: This past week has been so disheartening and mind blowing. To live in this daily reality is too surreal. Growing up I would have never imagined I would witness so many catastrophic events and right now we are in yet another phase of turmoil. I'm not writing this letter to complain but to be a voice of a possible solution to begin the healing process of the reality's of all police brutalities. There are a lot of individuals speaking out in rage, anger, sadness, hopelessness and are in turn hit with political jargon that has yet to propose a possible solution leaving people to feel like their words are hitting a brick wall and that there is no one to give them hope that some type of justice will come out of all of this. Marching's, rallies, online post,...
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Asking for help please come forward if you hear the perpetrators stalking Karen Lynn Phariss from Azle, Texas Tarrant County. Karen Lynn Phariss is asking for help confirming that there are individuals who can hear world wide known stalking situation. Willing to verbally confirm hearing Karen Lynn Phariss stalking situation. You can contact me by letter or call me. contact me on [email protected] (Emails will be forwarded to Karen) Thank you, Karen Lynn Phariss
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Within the past month I've seen more violence then I would hope to see in a lifetime. Growing up I was taught to be kind to everyone no matter who they were. I never understood why one human would hate another human just because of what they looked like, or their religion, or their sexual orientation....To be honest I still do not understand. The amount of senseless murders I have seen in the past month has not only scared me but has made me angry. Imagine being in that persons shoes who is looking down a barrel of a gun just because he got pulled over for a burnt out tail light. Or all of the men and women who thought going out to a bar would be fun that night. I am a straight white girl, I am not a part of the handful of groups being targeted lately. No I do not understand...
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When I was a little girl, my dad used to go away randomly. He’d disappear in the middle of the night, or a family member would show up to pick me up from school. My mom would be awake, even if it was the middle of the night, and she always seemed upset about something. She’d tell me “daddy’s at work, he’ll be home soon”, but she didn’t seem any less worried. As a little kid, I didn’t get it. I just knew my mom was upset, and my dad wasn’t home, and I didn’t like it. In High-school, my dad was super athletic. He didn’t get great grades - although later when he went to college in his 40’s he graduated top of his class. His parents never emphasized college, and he was more interested in sports. He played anything: football, soccer, basketball, if it included a ball it worked, and he was...
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Having watched Philando Castile's bereaved partner's 13 minute message, I must tell you it was heartbreaking to watch. How have organisations become so corrupt that they will go as far as to tamper with evidence, and try to cover up their crimes. The police are supposed to "protect and serve", but tragic events like these only prove they do no such thing. As a young black woman, I feel threatened and sad for the future generation of black people in particular. And then there will always be the statements..."it is with deep regret", etc etc etc. To be honest, I'm done. Action needs to be taken, because as the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. And all these words are doing nothing but cause more pain and tension between different groups. To the police, change your actions...
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Dear McKinney, TX police, Thank you for beating the hell out of me for being suicidle at one point in my life, it really seems like the best option for someone that needs help. I mean that's what officer Wilkerson said as he approached me the night of February 21st 2016. He said "I hear you need some help." I told him no I am fine, which I was, otherwise I wouldn't have been back at my house. I guess he didn't like that answer, so he grabbed me. Well as a natural reaction since I didn't do anything wrong I tried to pull his hand off mine. I don't remember much after that but my brother told me you hit me in the face 2 times. I'm guessing that's the part where I stopped remembering everything. The next thing I do remember is being tasered in my driveway pulling it out and being...
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I was locked out. I had no place to go. Hostels were full. “Friends” turned me away. You offered me a place to stay. You said you’d sleep on the couch. I awoke to the feel of your hands. The feel of your hands all over me. I froze. Didn’t know what to do. Was it me? Did I do something wrong? Did I drink too much? Did I wear too little? Did I make you believe I wanted this? No. It was not my fault. It was yours. Yes means yes and no means no. A vulnerable girl is not yours for the taking.
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I am angry. I am upset. My heart is with the victim of the Stanford rape, as well as all other survivors of sexual assault. I am in shock that there seems to be so little anger in the courtroom towards rapist Brock Turner. I am appalled that someone who committed so heinous a crime has only been sentenced to six months. My stomach is sick as I read the victim’s letter to her attacker, as she describes through her own eyes the pain and suffering she has gone through. Yet, none of this seems to phase Turner as he shows no regret for what he has done. Instead he places the blame on something else. Alcohol. Most know what it is to be drunk, to be a little more giggly or to throw your cares away, but being drunk does not turn someone into a rapist. The intent was already there. Alcohol does...
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