My voice is tiny; it fails when I stand before this reflection on Race and America, the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, Montgomery Alabama. But my body knows it must cry
when I enter this Mausoleum of Sacred Desolation and Haunted Memory of Lynching in America. Where I know I am Politically Black
because I can’t hold back my tears. My face twists and my tears mingle with my sweat. A site attendant asks me if I’ll be okay. I say yes. We smile. Quietly.
What choice do we have?
Who will take care of us but each other?
We People of Color, We Stand or Fall Together.
So, We Will Stand.
So when I leave, my eyes are dry, my head is high, and my Spirit is Survivor, not Slave.
‘Je me Souviens,’ George Floyd and all the others, still falling, still rising, trying to BREATHE