WHERE CAN A BLACK MAN JOG?

On a warm sunny day in February 2020, 25-year-old Ahmaud Arbery, dressed in t-shirt and shorts, went for a jog on a quiet Georgia road. His skin color enticed three white men, one being an ex-cop, to hunt him down and lynch him in broad day. A young life cut short all because it occupied the body of a black man who decided to go for a jog in a predominately white neighborhood.

Where in the hell can a black man jog? Can’t jog down quiet rural roads because the fearful, cowardace white men who percieve every black man as a threat will kill him. We can’t jog through suburban neighborhoods because the close-minded residents will call the cops. Can’t jog downtown because the cops will detain us. Can’t jog through the hood because some Willie Lynch negro might confront us because of the color of our clothes.

Seems like the only place for a black man to jog is the penitentiary. So here we are, a bunch of muscular slaves running around in circles on a modern plantation. Prison. Home sweet home. The only place a black man can jog. Only in America.