"And we, we talk about fear, right, you know, we talk about white women clutching their purses at the sight of us, or feeling uncomfortable when we walk in the store, but, I wonder, do you know how, how afraid, we are?"

 Michelle Obama  has once again articulated how I, and I am sure many of us ,have felt. Black people worry about their safety ALL THE TIME, especially in White Space- spaces, White people have been able to own/dominate/create through all the privileges their system has provided them. Spaces, like Ivy League schools, executive board rooms, suburban communities, Congress, Senate...etc.    Some Black people have been able to fight and push through to be included in those spaces, but that does not mean we feel safe. We wake up to stories like that of Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor that reminds us that we could be jogging around our neighborhood or just sleeping in our homes and our lives can be taken away. We live in the reality that at any point, we may enter a space in which we might anger/upset someone at the mere sight of our skin, so much so, they start shouting insults and profanities at our face or calling the cops with false accusations or throwing gasoline on us and lighting us on fire, or beating us viciously that we find ourselves at the brink of death or worse.....all this because of the color of our skin.  We live in fear but it is also that same fear that motivates us to keep on fighting. We don’t want to be afraid. We don’t want our children to live in that fear anymore. 

BLACK LIVES MATTER

My body is shaking. I couldn’t sleep last night. I’ve been on social media looking at different outlets trying to stay updated with everything that’s going on with the #BlackLivesMatter movement. I wanted to know what was happening. I wanted to see all footages of protests across the world (yes, world! This isn’t just an American problem.)

My body is vibrating, head to toe.  I don’t even want to eat. I don’t want any anger I feel right now to subside… not yet. I need to feel this anger, so I read the news where articles I come across articles ignoring  hours of peaceful protests in exchange for a more exciting headlines involving violence and mayhem. I need to feel this anger.

My blood boils at the sound of cries from my people throughout centuries that have been silenced. I want to feel the culmination of anger all my ancestors felt.

This anger does not seek blood but justice and equality. It is the fuel we will use to continue the fight against oppression.

adulthood

I realize there isn’t a moment where you “officially” become an adult.  There is no set list of things you must do to qualify into the criteria. Time just passes by, your body changes, and people start expecting things from you. As if you’re required to justify your existence. An existence you had no say in. One day, you just, were.