In this section, Coates talks a lot about the shooting of Prince Jones. He talked about how it all went down and how everything didn't add up to be justified. From the cop's reason for shooting him to the reason he was being followed in the first place, there was no good explanation for any of it.
Throughout everything that Coates says, I feel like what he is trying to get at is that life is so fragile. It can be here, molded and shaped for years, and then in an instant, it can be gone. He paints the picture of everything that could have been invested in Prince his whole life: all the miles to go to games, piano lessons, all the discipline, all the love. All of that can be spilled on the sidewalk in a few seconds.
The black community knows this far too well. They know that no matter how much they teach their children to be good, follow the rules, and respect authority, it might not even matter in the end. Who could expect to be shot by an under cover cop that followed you around dressed as a drug dealer and never showed is badge? There is never a feeling of safety, and that is so disheartening. In my head after I read this, I pictured a black father holding his new born son for the first time, and while there was a lot of joy in his heart, I couldn't help imagine there also being an overwhelming sense of fear as well knowing that his son could grow up someday to be another statistic. That mindset has to be the pinnacle of hopelessness.
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