How repetitious our history is. How predictable. Unarmed black teenager gets shot, big flurry of cameras and interviews and even some occasional outrage on the part of the news media. Then come the soothers, the ones who want to calm everyone down. Editorials are written, our black president acknowledges the pain of those who have lost a son or daughter and we all tip toe away, lose interest, start pouring water on our heads for ALS. I am not disparaging water pouring or tip toeing here. I am only saying that those who leave the scene after the fires smolder and the store fronts are rebuilt, and the long, tortuous process of the investigation continues, leave the scene. We, who do not live the life of black Americans, can turn our backs and not feel the consequences. Yet those who return to live in places like Ferguson, or Montgomery, or Chicago, or any small town or suburb in this country, cannot tip toe away or ignore the signs of repression that will surely come when the world is no longer watching: when Brian Williams or Anderson Cooper have left the scene.