How Botham Jean’s Murder Is The Epitome of Why Black Lives Never Matter
You know shit is real when a dead Black man has to make room for the fragile emotions of his killer, who happens to be a White woman.
Except, she’s no ordinary White woman, because she represents law enforcement — the most seedy and criminalized organization that ever was, in fact the bloody mafia has nothing on the griminess of badged officers — who patrol the streets in search of blood and the Black bodies that sport rewards for monthly quotas.
Botham Jean who was only twenty-six-years-old, was an upstanding citizen of his community, and exhibited winning characteristics that could assign him the description of a local hero.
As Mayor Mike Rawlings poignantly summed up:
Botham Jean was “exactly the sort of citizen we want to have in the city of Dallas.”
The Dallas Police Association President, Mike Mata also added that:
“Mr. Jean was an amazing individual, and he is what we as parents hope our children turn out to be.”
He was fondly known as “Bo” by those closest to him, and his infectious personality was enhanced by his “deeply religious” vibe, and his commitment to those who viewed the spirited young man as a mentor. He studiously dedicated time and energy to foster relations with at-risk youths. He was also a valued employee at the accounting and auditing firm of PriceWaterHouseCoopers.
But here’s the thing, it shouldn’t even matter whether the victim of a crime was a model citizen with a penchant for giving back to those who needed it the most, or a high school dropout who inevitably became a symbol of a system that purposely failed him.
What matters is that a Black man was shot twice in the chest, in his own home by a White cop, who thought she was entering her apartment and when she discovered something she allegedly didn’t expect, she did what most with her soiled badge would do: