Strange fruit has begun to bloom again. Isn’t it peculiar?
I first heard the term strange fruit when I was a child, but I didn’t understand what it meant. I just knew it was a song that appeared to be solemn.
It wasn’t until I was an adult and heard the song again that I understood what strange fruit meant. It hit me like a punch in the gut.
My breath caught in my lungs and tears burned the backs of my eyes.
I shook it away. We don’t have strange fruit anymore. I wasn’t born the last time something like that appeared on a tree.
Until it did.
A few years ago was a sighting in Mississippi. Then another months later in another southern state. Isolated incidents, I told myself.
Then in the past couple of weeks we’ve spotted it six more times and yet we are supposed to believe that these men, this strange fruit, all drank from the same cup from the root of the poisonous tree causing them to take flight only to be stopped short by a rope.
The coincidence of a rebellion and strange fruit is not lost. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence at all, yet as protests rage on some members of society revert back to what they were taught in decades past.
This strange fruit cannot be ignored. It comes to harvest through aches in our bellies, mothers screams and tears of the community.
Decades ago this strange fruit adorned post cards as a symbol of dehumanization and superiority.
Society no longer subscribes to that. People that enjoy this strange fruit are in the minority and they’re scared as change is forced upon them.
The protests continue. Resolve is steeled with each antiquated attempt at silence.
Strange fruit is popping up again, it’s not happenstance that it’s in the midst of a revolution.