trayvon martins was the moment my black life changed forever. i was 12, in elementary and i watched that entire situation from the day it was reported to the end. i had never heard anything like that. my eyes fixated on the news every night and during the day, i went to school

with all white students and had to pretend like it was normal. no one around me was discussing it. that was an entire energetic shift for me. that was a case i got so invested in, in the 6th grade. everything in my mind told me it was clear. they had to convict this man.

my mind was optimistic. i would explain it over and over to my mom how they would have to convict this man bc it was so clear and so obvious to a 12 year old. and my mom didn’t burst my bubble. looking back, she knew. she didn’t get invested bc she knew. but i did.

i put my heart into that case because i really had hope. in my eyes, the protestors were my heroes. obama was in office. i thought “this is history. this is the change!” and then, 5 months later...

i watched that man be acquitted of all charges.

and that was the moment, my entire parade of hope completely crashed. the rug was pulled from up under me. the ground opened and sucked me under into the reality of what it means to be black in america. i remember where i was. i remember how i felt.

it was a shift in my soul and it marked my fight. it marked my anger. it marked my reality. i was now thrown into reality while my classmates got to be 12 years old in their big houses with heated floors and golden retrievers. i was focused on justice.

and Trayvon Martin means the world to me. He means the world to me still to this day. I cry as I type this because my inner child hurts. I would imagine at 12 how much fear he probably felt. how much pain his parents were in. and yet even after that, I had hope.

and then Michael Brown, two years later.... same process, now i was 14.. same hope. and then again..

their deaths were personal to me. their deaths were symbolic to me. they were an image, a reflection to me.. of myself, of my brothers, of my family. and so the truth is... i’ve been traumatized over and over by this, but i will never lose hope and i will never lose passion.

if anything, i fight for them & everyone before them. i fight for the people we don’t even know about. bc they’re my family. bc black people and black women have made me feel comfortable in spaces just by looking at me, by seeing me. so i’ll never lose hope. i’ll never give up.