I was raised in a Southern household where children were meant to be seen, but not heard. I remember as a little girl, I just couldn't stop talking. It didn't matter what I was saying; sometimes, it was just nonsense.
I was reflecting on that talkative little girl today as I was listening to my daughter, a mini (and definitely improved) version of me, as she went on and on about her secret code name. I would tell y'all her secret name, but that would be against the code. I marveled at the ease and freedom of her words. Like I had been and like most children, if she thinks it, you'll know about it. So, what happened? Why have I found myself silent all these years? I engage in social media, but barely. I have a FB account someone else created for me years ago, and I have an Instagram I created to bother my cousin when she was going off to college...but that's about it. Generally speaking, I repost the words of others or say a few words here and there, and there are definite periods of my life where I spoke up and shared the basics, but I never really spoke OUT.
The frustrations of living in and navigating through the white supremacist culture of these United States of America remained a topic of discussion I reserved only for the closest of friends and loved ones. And tonight while watching the Black Lives Matter protests, I realized something that I had never truly considered before. A truth that I had long since forgotten. Yes, I've always known that Black Lives Matter. My entire career has been centered around this truth. I have fought for little black boys and little black girls in and out of school. I have protected children as though they were my own because Black Lives Matter. But what was new to me was the consequence of that statement. Black Lives Matter, and that means that MY life matters. My life matters. My. Life. Matters.
I want to let that sink in for a moment because as I finally sit down to type these words, I'm astonished that I hadn't realized it before. I was today years old when I truly recognized that my life matters. And that means that my voice matters. And because of that, I will no longer be silent.
So this is my introduction to my blog. James Baldwin once said, "To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time." And I will no longer silently sit in my rage, but I will express my feelings because my life matters. And, because it's therapuetic.
This is an invitation for you to come with me on this therapeutic journey to discovering my voice and using it to evoke change. And in the process, I hope you find your voice and be heard as well.
Comentários