My phone gets a text alert every time someone is shot in Louisville. It's always triggering because of how many people I've lost to these streets but I keep the alerts on to stay informed.
As a Russell resident, former JCPS teacher, and Councilman of the area, this alert was different. Tyree Smith was shot along with two other students while waiting on his school bus Wednesday morning. Tyree died.
There aren't words to express my heartbreak but I'll share raw thoughts after processing these last couple days. Tyree was the type of young man I may have seen in passing while teaching at Hite Elementary, right by Eastern High School where he attended.
He was the type of young man I may have seen in passing while walking around the neighborhood. Maybe he would have answered the door when we canvassed his street.
Maybe he would be at an after-school program I worked with. Maybe I saw him at Kentucky Kingdom when I took my son to celebrate his 4th birthday. Maybe...
I'm thinking about myself because I see myself in Tyree when I look at his photo. I see my little cousins, my little brothers, my own son. These are thoughts every single time a black child gets killed. When they die, a part of me dies with them.
And even though I don't explicitly remember interacting with Tyree, so much of my heartbreak is that I should have. Because maybe, just maybe, that internship for the neighborhood that has been on my to-do list since December would have saved his life.
Maybe free classes at Simmons I've been procrastinating would have saved his life. After the press conference about the shooting, I was at Simmons. Our new music campus is several blocks south, on the same street of the intersection where he was killed.
Shoutout to our Simmons students. We held space for each other. Before getting into our class content, we had some beautiful discussion. It's okay to grieve. It's okay to be sad. I'm sorry I made it seem like it wasn't.
What happened to Tyree is what happens after centuries of killings through racial engineering, now socially, politically, and economically engineered in our very own brothers and sisters.
It's a well known and proven fact that the lower the income of an area, the higher the crime rate of an area. We don't need more police. We need more resources. This day forward, I'm not debating this with anyone unless I need your vote to pass something on council.
Tyree's death is a loss for all of us. When I told people to get involved, I didn't mean to text, call, email me asking to get involved with me as your leader. The leader everyone is looking for is in the mirror.
You know what your neighborhood wants, needs, and has more than anyone else. I'm going to build with mine. You have to do the same. Nothing in this city will ever change as long as you sit on the internet complaining without organizing.
It's hard. I know. It's the most difficult thing I've ever done, but you can do it. And I promise it is well worth it. We're all still learning every single day. If you don't know where to start, the Office for Safe & Healthy Neighborhoods has an ambassador program.
"This program ignites people interested in civic engagement through trainings in CDC Public Health Approach to Violence, Community Organizing, Introduction to Mental Health First Aid, Suicide Prevention, and Conflict Resolution."
Will you commit to this if you're not already involved somewhere? If so email joseph.newland@louisvilleky.gov. We can't change anything without you. We need community, because as I said — EVERYONE IN LOUISVILLE, IS RESPONSIBLE FOR LOUISVILLE.
We passed our reparations resolution last night because community showed up. Please keep showing up in any way that you possibly can. Tyree's mother didn't need to be a better parent, she needed a village of people to support her efforts. We are the village.
I love you, Louisville. In loving memory of all of our lost ones, may peace be upon you. I'm out of office until Monday.