My soul feels empty thinking about what happened to George Floyd. I cannot and never will know how it must feel to be a person of color in America. The fear that must be ever present. The choices that have to be made that I will never have to make. The discussions they have to have with their children- how they balance what is taught in school to them about the freedom America affords with the fact that their children don’t enjoy the full extent of those freedoms.
The unending heartbreak that hits so close to home over and over must be crushing. I reflect on George Floyd and his story making it into the light and shudder to think of how many don’t- is it 1,000 for every George, is it 10,000, is it more? I’m sickened at the America that they are subject to and that we haven’t done more to change it. I’m hearing my friends of color say that we must be a part of this solution, that we must cry, that we must scream, that we must be angry, that we must listen, keep watch, and speak up. I want to do these things, I want to raise my boys to do these things. We should be constant students and raise constant students. Our chorus must be unified and it must be unending.