Trauma…

The death of Nipsey Hussle is one that has sent shock waves through the hip-hop community. It’s sad. It brings the ugliness of what many American city parents and loved ones see on a normal basis to the forefront.

But I’m not here to speak on his tragic death. I want to speak on the hideous aftermath and the “trauma triggers”.

My brother was killed on July 2, 2017. I was steaming crabs around the time I found out about his death on my agency telephone. Every time I steam crabs now, I reflect back on that moment. The smell is a trigger. What made it even more traumatic was when I decided to do the “identification” and see my lifeless brother on the ground. I tear up typing this.

I did it because I didn’t want my father or sisters to have to. I thought that I could handle it. But I cannot get the picture out of my head. And I cry every time I think about it.

I’m using this personal example to bring home the reality of the world we live in. Immediately following the shooting of Nipsey Hussle, people began recording the aftermath and posting it to social media. I knew it was him. How? I looked at the picture that was taken just before he died and I saw what shoes he had on and what color pants. It was a match to the lifeless man that lay on the ground receiving CPR.

I was heartbroken for society. I was heartbroken for whoever it was on the ground. Many people were “hoping” it wasn’t Nipsey. Regardless, it was someones child and their loved ones were seeing them take their last breaths.

Equally disturbing was the social media video that surfaced of his long-term girlfriend, Lauren London. Someone recorded the frantic London running in the hospital screaming, “That’s my husband!”. Her trauma is all over social media. For her to continue to relive. For their young children to continue to relive. For us to watch as if this is a television drama.

It’s not. It’s a real life traumatic incident that deserves privacy.

I spent many years in law enforcement. I’ve seen things that I only wish I could erase from my memory. I’ve heard screams, cries, and wails that are the eeriness sound imaginable.

About a year ago in Downtown Baltimore, a man was struck by a train. He was cut in half. Someone thought it was a good idea to post to social media. You cannot “unsee” these things. It’s unnecessary.

I beg of you. I implore you. Please, make better decisions when people are going through traumatic incidents. It triggers them. It’s upsetting and disturbing and it’s quite simply, not right.

Signed,

T.J. Smith, a living trauma victim.