How I was feeling when I wrote the spoken word in the video:
Physically positioned in a quarantine that united the world in the commonality of death; I write. Mentally shredded from razors of the racist reality we all live in; I search for words. Spiritually postured to pray for intervention; I suffocate in the silence of my tears. The same phrase has been ringing in my ears since the time of my youth: “We want justice.” My tongue is paralyzed in a rhythm of pain as my people bleed from blues. I search for answers to questions I should never have to ask: “What did he do?” “What did he do?!” Yet, still, the world remains unresponsive. Collided in confusion my thoughts become anxious and I am unable to make sense of my feelings. Emotions are flooding fast as existential challenges draw my attention away from my personal problems. I struggle with what to say to the world right now. I wrestle with my opinions and emotions to find a literary delivery of hope.
A message of resilience:
I am a black woman with a black father, black brothers, black male cousins, black nephews, black male friends, and was married to a black man. I have lived my life through the understanding that success for one black person is success for every black person that is living, deceased, or to be born. I fight hard personally and professionally to lift our race to a recognition of decency and dignity. I have pressed against the unfair currents of my black skin and my born gender my entire life. I am choosing my stance through my God-given gifts, abilities, and platforms. I encourage and urge all of us to do the same.
Let us unite in the paradigm of protests that will march against the walls of racism. Yours may be in a white coat as the black doctor that will take seriously our medical complaints. Maybe it is in a black robe that will bang the gavel of liberty and justice for our broken black brothers. Maybe it is in the classroom as you raise the African American Studies department from a boxed checked to a box broken. Maybe it is in a uniform as you protect and serve your black brothers from the affliction of the men in blue. Maybe there is a sign in your left hand and a blowhorn in your right declaring the voice of our people. Maybe you are home on your knees weeping in prayer to the true liberator of all chains. Maybe you are bare-chested in the nurturing of young black children. Maybe you snatch letters from your broken heart to form sentences that tell your people of hope. Maybe you brush paint strokes through the disgust of this reality to reveal the beauty and power in our blackness. For many of us, we will disservice our gifts by only choosing one. Your “maybe” may not be listed, but you should get yours done.
We have developed the most complex structures against oppression with far fewer tools. Our ancestors built roads to freedom with faith in their spirit and chills of fear rolling down their backs. This is our fight now. Take your stance. No matter where it is, and what it looks like. Make no more excuses for what you cannot do. Don’t look sideways at your brother or sister because their march doesn’t mimic yours. Our melanin unites us and our purpose delegates the position of our protest. We needed every black person where they were on the road to freedom. We need every black person where they are to break systematic racial injustice. We will need every black person where they will be to fill the seats of dangerous opportunities.
Arm in arm with no open links. This circle of unity will trap the perpetuation of racism until all confess our humanity and yield to our greatness.
Comentarios