worthy no matter the skin you wear.

romans 13:9-10

My heart is broken & heavy. I’ve borrowed a lot of words from others in the past & simply “shared” posts on instagram because:
1. it’s hard to find words to respond to this kind of injustice, and
2. I worry that I’ll say the wrong thing, fumble over it, and further prove to people I’ll never understand it because I’ll never experience it.

But enough is enough. I don’t care how much I know or don’t know. I’m choosing to dig deep & feel deep & speak from the depth of me because I want my kids to know one day that their mom had something to say about this. that I didn’t stay silent. that I was AWARE and AWAKE. and because I’m tired. tired of just “feeling bad” or “feeling sad” — I want to fight. I want to ask God to show me his heart for PEOPLE, the human race, & carry that heart within mine. I want to move with the compassion of Jesus & challenge systemic hate. I want to be educated. I want to advocate for those who have a different story and whose experience in this country is not the same as mine.

what is happening is heartbreaking, exhausting, infuriating, & revolting.

no one deserves to be killed for going on a run because they’re black. no one deserves to be killed for writing a bad check because they’re black. no one deserves to be second guessed or side glanced or sentenced to death because they’re black. it’s wrong. and wrong doesn’t have to be political or need any context. wrong is just wrong.

as I watched the video alone in my room, my 2 year-old ran in with a bag of balloons, begging me to blow them up because it would “be kinda really fun, mama!” I smiled & tried to snap back to the world inside my insulated, privileged, white home. but I couldn’t go back after what I saw. I couldn’t help imagining how I would tell darcie about this. how I could possibly explain hatred like this. how I could shatter the goodness within her by revealing the evil within others. how could dampen her world that revolves around simple things like when it will be her birthday with the reality that there are people in this world who think she deserves birthdays and others do not. I couldn't stop thinking about my beautiful friends of color who are weary & worn & worthy yet wondering if their white friends will even say anything -- preparing themselves for a lack of response and telling themselves it would be okay & move on. the mama who told me she prays every time her wonderful black husband and three beautiful black boys are apart -- that God would bring them home safely together. IT'S NOT OKAY.

as I blew up Darcie's balloons for a pretend birthday party, I was haunted by those “I can’t breathe” pleas from George Floyd as another human decided to be judge, jury, and executioner. as air left my throat, it struck me: breath in my lungs. here we are -- WE have breath in our lungs, unlike George, so we must use it. for GOOD. for change. for accountability. for love that conquers hate. for open eyes & open hearts to learn & continue to learn -- to be VIGILANT in learning. to ask questions, to be uncomfortable so as to comfort others, to resist being passive, numb, apathetic, or silent. to dig deep to find words that put us on the right side of history, even if it means stumbling over them to get there. God has given each of us a voice to speak out, eyes to see the truth, ears to listen to lived experiences, hands to take critical action, & a heart to entrust the greatest tool: empathy for people who are loved & valued by their maker. WORTHY no matter the skin they wear. let’s wake up and, as simple as it sounds, USE THEM.

to all my beautiful friends of color, help me. tell me how to do better. I am willing to do the hard work.

all my love, respect, & conviction,

destiny

(for ways to take action, text 'floyd' to 55156 and follow @grassrootslaw on instagram)