I can’t rest easy knowing that every time my male cousins (older and younger) leave the house their chances of returning are slim. That their natural dreadlocks will get them pulled over just because, or that the pigment of their skin will offend and threaten a white officer so much so as to place his knee on their necks applying pressure so heavy that the weight of his body takes the breath from their bodies, without remorse.

I am burdened with each waking moment by what could be.

It’s an unsettling thought to know that only 29 years ago Rodney King’s beating has escalated to senseless killings at the hands of people we’ve been taught to call for protection. If the police can’t protect us, who will? We have to protect ourselves. It saddens me that hatred is still as prevalent now as it was in times of slavery.

When will it ever end?

How many black faces do we have to see murdered on the news to get justice? If it’s so easy to kill a human being as if they’re being hunted like prey and get away with it, what message does that send to our youth? What do we tell little black boys that will eventually grow into the very black faces that the racists despise? That they could be killed without a blink of the eye?

We started preaching “don’t resist” yet that didn’t seem to help George Floyd. The mental image of his murder haunts me: him pleading to breathe. To breathe, one of his God-given rights since exiting the womb. The distress of the entire ordeal, the panic in the onlookers’ voices, and his limp body as they threw him on the stretcher, all playback like a film; but this is our reality.

What if that was my loved one, someone I grew up with, tried to protect from the world, only for his life to be taken at the hands of one that vowed to protect and serve?

So why are they surprised that we’re fed up?

You can’t expect to continuously attack, attack, attack, and not create a riot. We are beyond tired! We are born strong and mighty as a people, but there’s only so much you can take. We must fight back. No justice, no peace! Especially when you can kill a man in broad daylight in the streets.

But we must do it the right way.

We are hurting as a community all over the world, looting and destroying property isn’t the way to get our voices heard. Educating ourselves will always be the number one start to change. Let’s start reading together, forming a plan, and taking action in a judicial way. Let’s honor our people by providing opportunities for the youth in mentorship, creative outlets for them to vent through art, scholarships in their favor, and most importantly, love.

Love will always overcome hate.

On the contrary, not all cops are evil. My favorite uncle is constantly on my mind in the midst of this chaos. He’s one of the good guys, and there are so many like him out there, fighting for their lives because of the effects of corrupt police. They say one bad apple spoils the bunch, but we must appreciate the police that are truly in it to save lives and make a difference. Day-in-and-out they sacrifice their lives and should be commended for their work. Good cops, you are appreciated.

The truth of the matter is, men of color will always be a threat in America because they are powerful. The enemy won’t attack someone they feel is beneath them, they attack those who they perceive as a threat. History has shown African excellence time and time again: diamonds in Sierra Leone, pyramids in Egypt, writing, and language system development origins in sub-Saharan Africa. We come from generations of conquering, a wealth of knowledge, and an overwhelming sense of conviction. We cannot be defeated, our lineage sacrificed too much.

Racism is the root of all evil, and the vessel of so many young lives taken. Take Ahmaud Arbery, jogging alone, chased and shot by two white men; Oscar Grant III shot in the back by police at the train station after already being detained; Trayvon Martin walking home from the store with a hoodie on pursued by a racist community watch and fatally shot in the chest; Michael Brown shot six times by a police officer; and so many other cases that haven’t been highlighted in the news. These cases don’t settle, they fester and more bodies and names accumulate on the list. We can’t afford to lose any more of our black youth. Without them, there’s no hope for the future.

While outraged, I am hopeful that change is possible. The mere fact that people can come together to protest (no matter how imperfect things have become) shows that we are starting in the right direction.

We should take this opportunity to march as our ancestors have already given us the blueprint. We can protest peacefully, get our voices heard, get our frustrations out articulately, and pray. In times like these, we must settle in the foundation and ground ourselves to the highest.

2020 is saying something to us, are you listening?