Black Lives Matter.
Growing up in a very suburban (and very white) city about 30 minutes outside of Los Angeles, I did not witness the constant police harassment of black men. My father was diligent in teaching my siblings and I about life outside the bubble he and my mother had created for us. I will never forget seeing how Rodney King was beaten and being shocked that my father was NOT shocked. That feeling of helplessness, anger, and despair remains each time another murder is filmed.
I will continue to speak my voice. I will proudly inform you that the life of my brother, uncles, nephews, and friends DOES matter. I will stand proud in my beautifully created brown skin and continue to show you that my life matters. I will continue to exude #BlackGirlMagic and show my tiny slice of this world that my melanin is not a mistake.
Stay strong, my brothers and sisters...we got this.