The more things change, the more they stay the same. But our desire to change must be greater than our desire to stay the same. Complacency and long-term yearning for superiority are dangerous characteristics that cause us to fall into the same patterns time and time again — whether or not we intend for this to happen.

For the past several months, I have not published a word — my blog has remained silent. I have felt so depleted; I have been plagued with this feeling of defeat. Although I have been active on social media, I couldn't quite find the strength to really put my feelings into words — until now. I cannot remain silent any longer. I cannot sit and allow the cries of these black men and women being killed at the hands of police officers go unacknowledged. The cries of George Floyd, and the many men and women killed in such a manner, are a metaphor of the cries of the African-American community over the last 400 years. 

As I was going through my blog archive the other day [in an attempt to get myself organized], I came across an article I wrote a few years ago, explaining the most important task I have as a mother: how to raise my children to be unapologetically black. As I read through the article, a few things jumped out at me: Mr. President #1 was only in kindergarten [he is in fifth grade now], Freddie Gray had just been killed, and the lingering affects of the murder of Trayvon Martin were still percolating. As I was reading what I had written many years prior, it occurred to me that so much had changed, yet so much remained the same. 

The killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and Jacob Blake have led to renewed calls for racial equality and justice across our country. These killings have also reinforced numerous fears that many parents, like myself, have about raising black children in America — fears that our children could be killed while jogging or sleeping in our homes or otherwise, “living and breathing while black.” These renewed calls for justice really hit home. But what others don't realize is that when there is no civil rights movement; when there are no protestors in the street; when there are no calls for justice reaching Congress, little black boys and girls, like my children, still face the same obstacles. I am so perplexed. What do we do now? Where do we go from here? 

During what feels like like this never-ending litany of injustice, racism, and disenfranchisement in America, my only hope is that this generation will be the generation to further enact change. I have to remind my children that racism is prevalent whether or not they can see or identify it. Racism is like dust particles in the air — we might not be able to see them in a dark room, but as soon as we open the window and let the sun shine in, they are everywhere. Ultimately, our protests and calls for justice cannot change hearts and minds, but it can change legislation. We must vote.

How Far Have We Come?:

Of the many black figures of African-American history I learned about as a child, Emmitt Till's story and disfigured face was not one of them. When Till was horrifically beaten by a group of white men, shot, and tossed into the Tallahatche River with barbed wire and a cotton-gin fan tied to his neck, those involved in his killing were all acquitted. Throughout these decades that followed, we see the same cycle repeating itself. 

In February of this year, 120 years after it was first considered, Congress finally approved legislation making lynching a hate crime under federal law. The Senate also, unanimously, passed the legislation in 2019. The bill was renamed for Emmett Till in February of this year and returned to the Senate where it is currently being held. For 120 years, the cries of our people were being ignored. 

Just a few weeks ago, our current administration spent an entire political convention trying to convince the American people that racism does not exist. How could this be so when law enforcement can still unjustifiably suffocate a black man to death on a public street; a black woman can be slaughtered by law enforcement while peacefully sleeping in her bed; vigilantes can still chase down a black man and kill him in the middle of the street; and lynching is still not considered a hate crime under federal law. How? 

Very reminiscent of the vigilante murder of Emmitt Till 65 years ago, on February 23rd of this year, Ahmaud Arbery was chased by three white men while he was jogging down a street in Brunswick, Georgia. Two of the men hit Arbery with their truck, then one shot him. The men left Arbery dead in the street. They believed that he was responsible for thefts that had taken place in the area. Arbery's lifeless body was found just like Till's lifeless body was found, 65 years apart. How far have we really come? 

Where Do We Go From Here?:

The more I ponder the question of how to raise black children in today's America, I find it more and more difficult to find the answers. I often wake up in the middle of the night, and run to the bedside of my three, black children, just make sure they are all okay. Every night before I close my eyes, my prayer goes a little something like this:
"Dear Heavenly Father,
Please protect my children from danger seen and unseen. 
Wrap your arms around them, and let no hurt, harm, nor danger come near them. 
Guide and protect them, and lead them on a path of righteousness. 
Please let them live to fulfill the purpose You have called upon their lives. 
Please let them live. 
In Your miraculous name I pray, 
Amen."
I wrote it five, long years ago, and I'll write it again: Many of my mommy and daddy friends are teaching their children to be kind to others, say please and thank you, eat their vegetables, and be respectful. But I am not only teaching my children these necessary principles, I am literally teaching them how to stay alive.

I am not asking for your sympathy. I am asking for your action. As Dr. King once stated, "I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Klu Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice." When will  "order," or inferiority be outweighed by justice? When will black lives be more important than the need to ensure the same groups of people stay on top? This is why I don't need your sympathy, but I need your action. 

I need you to speak out against injustice — even when it doesn't affect you. I need you to send your children to the neighborhood school — even when you think there are too many black kids there. I need you to vote for elected officials who have a vested interested in our collective issues. I need you. 

Do you love America? I do. I love America so much — as much, or maybe even more than you do. I love her so much, that I am joining the charge to make her better — the best she can possibly be for everyone. When I was once told by a disgusting racist to "GO BACK TO AFRICA," my response was that I have no intention to go "back" to a place I have never been in the first place. This is my country. I ,too, am America. We cry out BLACK LIVES MATTER, not to diminish the value of life of those of other races, but to let others know that we too are valuable. There is so much value in cultural and racial competence — it makes everyone better. We can love and be disappointed in America all at the same time. America, I love you. Let's do better. 

My Post Five Years Ago:

Please take a moment to read this blog post I wrote five years ago. You'll notice that not much has changed. I'll meet you at the end:

It all began late one afternoon when I neglected to turn CNN off of the television. Mr. President #1 was watching one of his recorded children's shows before dinner, and when it ended, he could hear live television playing on in the background: the voice of the narrator of a documentary airing on CNN about an investigation into the killing of Freddie Gray suddenly filled the room. I immediately turned off the television, but that didn't stop Mr. President #1 from asking me the question I had been dreading, "Mommy, why did they kill that boy? Because he's black?" I was infuriated to hear those words coming from the mouth of my five-year-old son, but at that very moment, a revelation suddenly came upon me: I finally realized that racism, brutality, and violence were the issues our society had succumbed to decades after segregation and racial oppression had ended in America. We are facing the same issues our ancestors fought for so many years ago right now.
Now let me be clear about one thing. I am not anti-police. What I AM is anti-racism, anti-violence, anti-oppression, and anti-brutality. Racism is deeply rooted in our society whether we want to admit it or not. I ,too, have been a victim of racism and racial profiling, and because I do believe this is something my sons will disappointingly have to face one day, it is the responsibility of myself and my husband to prepare and equip them for the future.
Unfortunately, at this point, there is only so much I can do about the overbearing violence and racism happening in our society today. I am only one voice, but we need many voices; the voices of those from all races and all walks of life to come together to make a difference. People are killing one another like they have absolutely no regard for human life. I cannot control the type of news being aired on television or being published in our newspapers and magazines, but what I can control is how my children perceive what is happening today and how they learn to love and appreciate who they are in spite of it all. I have to teach my children to live their lives a little differently and more cautiously than some of their friends, but more importantly, I must teach them to always be unapologetically black and be proud of who they are.

How does my parenting differ from the norm?
Many of my mommy and daddy friends are teaching their children to be kind to others, say please and thank you, eat their vegetables, and be respectful. But I am not only teaching my children these necessary principles, I am literally teaching them how to stay alive. I am teaching my sons to be extremely careful of what they say; to be extremely cautious of the words that come out of their mouths — especially with the authority. I am teaching Mr. President #1 to be cognizant of the clothes he wears so he will not be perceived as a criminal when he's simply walking down the street or walking home from school. I am teaching my sons to be more tolerant than their peers, and to be aware of their surroundings at all times. When I send Mr. President #1 off to school, I remind him of these things, and to be aware of every move he makes. Can you imagine how tiresome this must be for such a small child? Kindergarten is enough to worry about, but for Mr. President #1, it doesn't end there, and I am sharing this because it just is not fair. For Mr. President #1 and I, I imagine our morning conversations will go a little something like this in the near future:
Me: Have a great day son.
Mr. President #1: Ok mommy. I love you.
Me: Remember to watch what you say. Be respectful, keep your hands to yourself, do nothing but smile at the police, and do not put your hood on unless it is raining. I love you too.
Mr. President #1: Ok mommy. Bye!
Me: What did I tell you son?
Mr. President #1: No touching, listen up, no hood, follow the rules! I got it mom! (And he runs off to school...)

​How will I teach my sons to be unapologetically black?
I have quite the task cut out for me when it comes to my two, little black boys. Teaching them to be unapologetically black in today's society is no easy feat, but I am grateful to have been given such an important responsibility. Mr. President #2 is still a little too young to take it all in, but I remind Mr. President #1 on a daily basis to be proud of who he is. I constantly tell him that the way he is, is not his fault. I tell him that the color of his skin, the shape of his face, his height, his shoe size, things he is great at, and things he has trouble learning are all because God made him that way. Yes —  I want my children to assume responsibility for the things they've done right and the things they've done wrong, but I want them to know that there is absolutely no mistake about the way God made them. I want them to know and understand that they are the way they are because God chose for them to be that way for a reason.

What do I expect my children to do with these life lessons?
As Mr. President #1 and Mr. President #2 grow older and gain a more clear understanding of it all, I expect them to not only understand that they are black and they are incredible, but for that reason, I expect them to treat others with nothing but love and respect. I expect my sons to realize that racism is real, whether they can see it or not, and to teach other people and little black boys who come after them that they all deserve to live and that they all have a place in our society. I am afraid that when the time comes, my sons will not know how to respond when they have to face racism, so I want to take time to prepare them now. I also want to build them up by letting them know how beautiful and wonderful they are and will always be, even when society will try to tear them down.

Same Story, different day. Like so many of you, I too am exhausted and heartbroken. I have realized that it is in our nature to feel defeated from time to time, but that does mean our journey is finished. We might be at the end of one road, but we just have to find a different route to get to where we really need to be. This journey toward justice and racial equity is a never-ending journey. It is a journey fought by our parents, grandparents, and those who came before them. But it is also a journey of several lifetimes. When our time comes, we must pick up the torch. In the words of the late Coretta Scott King, “Struggle is a never ending process. Freedom is never really won, you earn it and win it in every generation.”

Before I go, I must call on each and every one of you to go out and vote. As the saying goes, "bad officials are elected by good citizens who don't vote." Exercise your right and let's be the change we want to see in the world!! I love y'all, and I leave you with these incredible words by one of my favorite authors, the incomparable Toni Morrison:

“If I take your race away, and there you are, all strung out. And all you got is your little self, and what is that? What are you without racism? Are you any good? Are you still strong? Are you still smart? Do you still like yourself? I mean, these are the questions. Part of it is, ‘Yes, the victim. How terrible it’s been for black people.’ I’m not a victim. I refuse to be one … if you can only be tall because somebody is on their knees, then you have a serious problem. And my feeling is that white people have a very, very serious problem, and they should start thinking about what they can do about it. Take me out of it.”
-Toni Morrison

I was sitting on the edge of my bed reading The Water Dancer by Ta-Nehisi Coates when my husband walked into our bedroom, and blurted out, "Kobe is dead." At first I thought he was pulling my leg. But I couldn't help but think, "why would he say such a thing?" When I asked him to repeat himself, he could barely find the words, but managed to say, "Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter crash this morning." I was stunned. I was in a state of disbelief. I immediately turned on the television to find that everything my husband had said was true. I bet you can recall exactly where you were and exactly what you were doing when you learned of the passing of Kobe Bryant Sunday afternoon.

When I later learned that Kobe's 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, also died with him in the helicopter crash, I literally felt a weakness — I could barely hold myself up. But why was I so profoundly affected by the death of a celebrity I didn't even know? How could I be so forlorn over a person I had never even met?

When an icon passes away, and leaves his or her earthly inhabitancy, we feel like we have lost a friend. But furthermore, celebrities take on a "Bigger than Life" persona, and somewhat display the image of God manifested in man — perfection. When the talents of a celebrity like Kobe bless us, we are able to see the incredible creation of God ultimately displayed in man. I truly believe that there are chosen ones. What do I mean by that? I believe that once in a lifetime, God blesses the world with these incredible talents, these incredible people, who are able to show just how magnificent He really is. These chosen few become bigger than their gifts, as they adopt this iconic image and connect with people around the world. Kobe was a chosen one. Think about this for a second! There were thousands of individuals who died on Sunday, but the death of Kobe Bryant seems to be the ending that left us all utterly speechless.

But beyond this image of perfection, I honestly believe these five reasons leave us despondent over the tragic loss of the legendary Kobe Bryant, or any celebrity who has made such an impact on our lives:

1. We are reminded of our own mortality.

Life is fragile, and death simply does not discriminate. When celebrities we love take on this "Bigger than Life" persona, they seem almost immortal to us. If death can happen to someone so incredibly special, it can definitely happen to us. Regardless of our age, (13 or 41), death can strike at any moment. We are reminded in the book of James that we do not know what will happen tomorrow. Life is just a vapor that appears for a moment and eventually vanishes away. Our time here on earth is short. While we are reminded of our own mortality, we must also be reminded to cherish every moment, and live like there is no tomorrow.

2. He transcended all of the things that divide us.

Kobe wasn't "Bigger than Life," but he was bigger than the game of basketball. For those who love the game of basketball, and even those who don't, we all knew Kobe and the generous, genuine, and gentle man he was. He transcended race; he transcended class; he transcended culture. Kobe was able to show the world that no matter who you are, no matter what you look like, and no matter where you come from, God can use anybody to leave His mark on the world. I can personally say that I feel empowered and inspired by celebrities who are able to touch so many individuals, in so many different walks of life. When celebrities leave us, the thought of them no longer contributing to our lives can really leave a void. When Michael Jackson died, one of the most difficult aspects of this loss was the realization that there would be no more music from him. How could this be so, especially when so many memorable moments of my life were connected to his music. Nostalgia is a powerful thing — a longing for the familiar.

3. We weren't supposed to make it.

We were slaves. Yes, you read that correctly. We were slaves. We weren't supposed to shake up the world. As an African-American, Kobe's tragic death resonates with me because of our story. From the slave ships to the White House, we made it, despite what others might have done to keep us down. We weren't supposed to become the greatest athletes in the world. We weren't supposed to be the biggest selling musicians of all time. We weren't supposed to become the President of the United States of America. We weren't supposed to win the Pulitzer Prize and the Nobel Peace Prize. After hundreds of years of slavery and bondage, Jim Crow laws, and the journey for civil-rights and equality, we, as a people, have suffered enough. When one of our people die in such a tragic and untimely fashion, we relive all of the suffering and the pain. When Dr. King was assassinated, riots literally broke out in major cities around the country. It isn't supposed to end this way. We have been through enough. But it's okay to see the parallel in your experiences. We can find comfort in knowing that we can lean on one another.

4. We all make mistakes. This includes you.

Kobe was the epitome of class and grace. He did not try to run from his personal troubles when it seemed like his world was crumbling. Rather, he addressed them, apologized for what might have gone array, picked himself up, and continued on his journey. If you haven't made any mistakes in life, then your momma should have just named you Jesus. Just like Peter, Kobe's story is one of redemption. Although we make mistakes, the greatest misfortune is not in the mistake itself. Rather, the misfortune is in repeating those mistakes over and over again. We make mistakes to learn from them, not to be cursed by them. Knowledge and good judgment follow when we truly learn from our blunders. We can all be redeemed.

​5. We are fathers like Kobe and mothers like Vanessa.

It's our worst fear. the unthinkable, completely exposed and devastating. For those who love the sport, and those who could care less about the game of basketball, we all shared something in common yesterday: we cried until we couldn't cry anymore, and we hugged our little ones like it would be our last. My husband cannot play basketball like Kobe, and he doesn't speak four different languages like him either, but he definitely has one thing in common with the icon — he is a father like Kobe. Looking at the photos of Kobe with is daughter Gianna reminds us all of that pride and unconditional love we feel for our children. Those pictures are all but a memory now for Vanessa and her three daughters. This is almost unbearable for me to fathom right now. We might not be like Kobe, but he was like many of us — a doting father. Vanessa is also like many of us — a loving mother. And we will continue to keep her lifted as she navigates through life without her best friend, and without her daughter whom she gave the greatest gift of all — life.

The closest thing to Michael Jordan the world has seen, Kobe Bryant's legacy will live on long after his death. Kobe holds an 81 point scoring record in one game, five championships with the Los Angeles Lakers, 18 All-Star game appearances, two olympic gold medals, and two jerseys hanging in the Staples Center — No. 8 and No. 24. Only 41 years old — these numbers will be ingrained in our memories forever. Kobe was a masterpiece, a chosen one. I am so glad God blessed us with just a glimpse of His magnificence — if only for a short time. Thank you Kobe, for sharing your God-Given gifts with the world. And thank you for reminding us, even in death, that there is still hope in mankind. We should all look to Christ as we make our way through this short, but complicated world. May the peace of God, that surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds. To the Bryant family, and all of those affected by the souls lost in this tragic accident, I will never stop praying for you.

From the Emancipation Proclamation to the election of the first African-American president in American history, here is a glimpse of what I consider to be the top 10 Presidents in our history who have supported the progress of black people in America.

While my little boys, Mr. President Number One and Mr. President Number Two, are learning about George Washington and the founding fathers at school, I am taking it upon myself to incorporate lessons about the leaders of our great nation, and the laws they implemented, or attempt to implement, in the freeing of slaves, and eventually, the legal equality of African-Americans.

The U.S. Presidents listed below, in order of succession, are those I believe have had the greatest degree of African-American influence in our nation’s history. So here we go:

John Quincy Adams:
President Adams was the sixth President of the United States, and the son of the second. His views on slavery evolved over time, and it would be after his presidency that he would become a well-known abolitionist. While in Congress, he demanded to hear petitions against slavery, when laws regulated against them. President Adams won the freedom of the Africans on the famous, Spanish slave ship, La Amistad. President Adams never billed for his service.

Abraham Lincoln:
​President Lincoln was born into a racist family in Illinois. Despite his upbringing and early years defending the laws of slavery, he eventually grew a very transparent opposition to slavery, and would eventually be assassinated because of his outward attempt to support African-Americans. Lincoln, also known as the Great Emancipator, would take a while to become the anti-slavery man who believed in black inferiority, to become Lincoln the abolitionist who could openly advocate for certain rights of citizenship for black people. Although initially implemented as a war necessity, President Lincoln would sign the Emancipation Proclamation, freeing the majority of the four-million enslaved African-Americans during the Civil War. Although loopholes would allow for the continuation of slavery, President Lincoln would also pass the 13th Amendment, legally abolishing slavery in the United States.

Ulysses S. Grant:
​Often considered to be one of the greatest civil-rights presidents in American history, President Grant was elected to presidential office twice, even though he stood up for the rights of African-Americans to live in freedom. He championed for the passage of the 15th Amendment, allowing African-American men the right to vote. He would call the 15th Amendment, “the greatest change in American history since the Declaration of Independence.” He also sent troops in to southern states where white-supremacists groups were attacking and killing African-Americans, namely the Klu Klux Klan.

Franklin D. Roosevelt:
Although President Roosevelt (FDR) was not a crusader for African-American rights, and is often critiqued for “The New Deal,” he signed a pair of executive orders (Executive Orders 8802 and 9066), that set the stage for generations of economic opportunity for African-Americans, by barring discrimination in hiring by federal agencies and contractors. As a result of one of these orders, millions of black people, who were almost unable to find employment previously, would receive better jobs, and better pay. FDR’s Wife, Eleanor Roosevelt, is considered to be the first First Lady to champion for African-American rights. She is often remembered for moving famous African-American opera singer, Marian Anderson’s, performance at the Lincoln Memorial after she was prohibited from performing at Constitution Hall because of her race. My children have also taken the name of the Roosevelt’s — hence why we call them, “The Presidents.”

Harry Truman:
​President Truman was the first president since Ulysses S. Grant to directly address civil rights for African-Americans. Although he was born and raised in the segregated south, his service in the military broadened his perspective on African-Americans. When he took office, racial tensions, lynchings, and other violent crimes against blacks were at an all-time high. President Truman was the first President to directly address the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). And after seeing the brutal treatment African-American soldiers received after returning home from World War II, he decided enough was enough. He would eventually attempt to desegregate the military, and implement civil-rights acts to ensure fair and equal treatment for African-Americans.

Dwight Eisenhower:
President Eisenhower was a Texas-born war hero. President Eisenhower, because of his privileged upbringing, had little knowledge or experiences with black people. He even believed, initially, that the federal government should never interfere with old, American racial customs. During his presidency, he would have a change of heart, desegregating the nation’s Capitol, Washington D.C., and following through on President Truman’s promise to desegregate the military. He also appointed Governor Earl Warren as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, which would be instrumental in the outcome of future justice, Thurgood Marshall’s, case, Brown vs. The Board of Education. The court’s ruling in Marshall’s favor would desegregate schools across the country. Rosa Park’s famous Montgomery protest, along with the brutal murder of 14-year-old Emmett Till three months earlier, challenged President Eisenhower's desire to aggressively oversee the nation’s progress on race.

John F. Kennedy:
President Kennedy (JFK), who was elected by a majority black vote, made historic African-American appointments to his cabinet — most notably, appointing Thurgood Marshall to the Second Circuit Court of Appeals in New York. Although he would eventually join the black cause, for the first two years of his term, he ignored the call to join African-American leaders, namely Martin Luther King, Jr. (MLK) in the fight for equal rights for black people. JFK supported minority voter registration drives, and deployed troops to protect protestors. On the evening of June 11, 1963, JFK gave a televised address announcing that he would send comprehensive civil rights legislation to Congress that would include provisions for access to public facilities, voting rights, and technical and monetary support for school desegregation. Unfortunately, he was assassinated just five months later, and legislation had not yet been passed.

Lyndon B. Johnson:
President Johnson, true to his convictions, fulfilled the promises made by JFK before his assassination. Although many believed President Johnson had conflicts with his own ideals of racism, he would pass the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the 1965 Voting Rights Act. The Civil Rights Act made it possible for President Johnson to completely abolish Jim Crow laws, and the Voting Rights Act made the U.S. government accountable to its black people and the promise of a true democracy. President Johnson also lifted racist immigration restrictions designed to preserve a white majority in the U.S. Although the Fair Housing Act never fulfilled its promise to end residential segregation, it was another part of a political effort to live up to the ideals of a fair and just America. His War On Poverty also produced controversial programs to lift African-Americans out of poverty: Head Start, Medicaid, and Medicare. He would also be responsible for the appointment of the first black Supreme Court Justice, Thurgood Marshall.

Bill Clinton:
Although President Clinton has a complicated relationship with black American (due in part to his Three Strikes Law, part of the infamous 1994 Crime Bill), he has still been dubbed the First Black President. Because he was from the South, and even played the saxophone on the Arsenio Hall Show (quite eloquently, might I add), he was extremely popular amongst African-Americans. Crime and minority unemployment rates dropped to an all-time low during his presidency, and the Family Medical Leave Act of 1993 provided job security for many African-Americans. Also during his presidency, a surprisingly large number of African-Americans would go to college.

Barack Obama:
President Obama, as you already know, was the FIRST BLACK PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. The sheer fact that he was elected, is a true inspiration for generations of black children to come -- affirming that fact that if you dream it, you can achieve it. Many black people regarded his victory as a personal triumph, and it marked a significant step in the "long road to freedom" for many. Although the economy struggled to recover during President Obama's presidency, the Affordable Care Act, automobile bail-out, and education reform elevated millions of African-Americans. The My Brothers Keeper Initiative also focused on improving the lives of young African-American males. One personal statement made by President Obama that really sealed the deal for me (as the mother of black boys), was during his speech following the killing of Trayvon Martin: "If I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon." Although criticized immensely for this remark, I appreciate his transparency, and his audaciousness to address the nation, emphasizing the fact that Trayvon could have been him — a black boy with a hoodie on 35 years ago.

Evaluating the presidency of some of these great men is no easy task. But I hope you learned a little something from my list. Happy Presidents Day, and Happy Black History Month!
​