RIP Banko Brown

Banko Brown.

Another trans soul lost.

Look into the barrel that’s loaded with ignorance and hate

not only bullets that kill.

Our lives are statistical

Our experience, somewhat mystical

They turned this shit political

Seems a bit egotistical

When I told my mom I was going to law school in San Francisco she sighed with relief. I was taken aback by this reaction at first because my mom was my rock… how could she be relieved to see me move halfway across the country. I know now that sigh of relief was because she thought leaving Texas would protect me from the perpetuating hate. When I came out to my mom as trans her number one concern was my safety. I never told her the horror stories that came with being a visibly trans person in Texas… but somehow, she knew. I didn’t understand why she would frantically call my friends/siblings asking for me when I didn’t answer my phone. I didn’t understand her fear … the fear of losing her child to violence. The fear that one day I could be walking home from work or leaving a club, and that my existence could cause someone to want to take my life.

I knew this reality, but I chose not to see.

I chose to be me

no matter hard they told me it would be.

I live in fear of being shot

Turned into a thought

That will soon be forgot

1,953 miles away and the danger is still near

Living in a constant state of fear

On Friday night the threat became real

Enclosed in walls made of steel

Let me try to describe to you how this shit makes me feel

and why this is all a little too real.

An empty seat next to a stranger

My mind yelling DANGER DANGER

But my tired aching body wins

I take a seat relieved to relax my limbs

To him, my existence is a threat. A threat to his masculinity, a threat to society, a threat to everything he was told he couldn’t be. I sat mindlessly scrolling for couches, planning for a future I know isn’t promised. I didn’t realize he was talking to me until I glanced over, and his cold eyes darted at me. “You got me fucked up if you think I’m on that gay shit… this shit is not a game. Welcome to my city I will show you how we do it, wait until you get off, I am going to follow you and shoot you”

Shoot you. Shoot you. Shoot you.

All of a sudden, the slurs and shit talking became real. My life threatened once again because I dared to exist.

I sat paralyzed not knowing if this would be my last few moments on this earth. Not knowing if these were threats or intentions…

knowing the violence that’s surrounding my community now more than ever,

knowing the prevalence of guns and the ignorance that causes us to use them.

I do not blame him directly for he like all of us were failed by a system. A system designed to keep those in power on top and doesn’t give a damn about the rest of us.

Will I be a statistic?

I exit the train and he follows. My hands are shaking, my feet are numb, my heart is racing, and my mind goes blank. A combustion of emotions ensued as if I had just escaped death. A flashback to a similar occurrence in a Texas restroom – the feeling of helplessness.

I sense my safety and cry and a panic attack instantly follows.

I stood there like a child —terrified and lost.

I grabbed onto my partners hands as if there were a bottomless pit under me —hanging on for dear life.

A reminder that nowhere is safe for us.

A reminder that my existence is and always has been

viewed as a threat.

I thought of my transcestors and the violence they endured in order for me to exist. I thought of their resiliency and channeled their strength. I am alive. I live every day to the fullest because I never know when it will be my last.

Banko Brown is more than a statistic.

Banko Brown is a reminder of the cruel world we live in.

Banko Brown was a human who deserved the same love and compassion we give to those we feel have “earned it”.