Hey family. I pray you are all in good spirits, despite the obstacles we are taking head-on, world wide. No real intro this week, I just want to let you know we will be changing our journey schedule. To ensure I am not choosing quantity over quality, we will be dropping down to 1-2 lengthier journeys a month. With that being said please don’t hesitate to reach out and let me know if there’s a topic you’d like to explore! (email:beautifulpassionatelove@gmail.com)

Oh, we also will be moving away from Saturdays for a more free-flowing exploration experience. Well, that’s all for me and my announcements! Let’s explore! Indulge & Enjoy!

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Sitting here, during the pandemic that has the world in an uproar, watching protesters beg for justice for Breonna Taylor— a woman shot and killed in a “no-knock” botched search warrant. As the live stream broadcast, to anyone on Facebook that wishes to view it, the comments start pouring in.

“Way to make it about race, ALL LIVES MATTER,” a woman of the un-melanited ethnicity chose to write. All of me wanted to reply to her comment, begging her to get a grip of reality and realize what’s going on around her, but I don’t. Instead, my mind wanders…

I begin to think of a world where “they” were “us” and “we” were “them.” I begin to wonder what life would be like to not secrete the melanin that drips from my pours, reminding the white world I live in that I’m just another useless black “girl.” “Damn,” I think to myself, ”At 28 years of age, they don’t even see us as men and women, they still see us as “boy” and “girl…”

My thoughts are interrupted by another commenter, also not black, sharing his unsolicited opinion. “This is a violent protest,” he states, “The police need to do their job and ‘end this’.” My blood boils as my mind wanders to all the peaceful protests my brothers, sisters, and ancestors partook in. YOU SAID THE SAME EXACT THING THEN TOO.

My mind reverts back to the scenario… What if I was white? What would it feel like to ALWAYS be bothered by “you people?” To be walking down the street, on a hot summer day, and see a young black girl selling water to pedestrians, and call the police because she doesn’t have a permit. To be so bothered, by a young black man jogging, in my neighborhood, I get in the car with a relative and hunt him down and kill him, in broad daylight, because he ”fits the description.” Or, to feel so overwhelmingly bothered by the loud playing of urban music, at a gas station, that I approach and fire into the car, killing a young black man, because they wouldn’t turn it down.

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Not aware of these scenarios? Jordan Austin, was 8 years old when the police were called on her for selling water… Ahmaud Arbery, was 25 when he was hunted down and murdered for jogging in the “wrong” neighborhood… Jordan Davis, he was 17, when he was murdered for listening to music… Trayvon Martin, 17-years-old… Sandra Bland, 28-years-old… Eric Gardner, 43-years-of-age… Breonna Taylor, 26-years-old… George Floyd, 46-years-old… What’s sad, is this list doesn’t even scratch the surface of injustice constantly repeated against the black community….

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So, I ask myself again, “What if I was white?” I ponder a world where I have pale skin, bone straight hair, maybe even a couple freckles… I focus on how safe I’d feel when I leave the house, with no fear of not making it back home. I focus on the security I’d have, knowing it’s highly unlikely I’ll be seen as the aggressor in a confrontation. I wonder how it would feel to not fully understand injustice, therefore wipe it under the rug.

I wonder… I wonder… I wonder… And, after my wondering turns into frustration due to the inequality being ignored daily, I, PROUDLY, remind myself that I am BLACK! I rub my fingers through my 4c kinky hair and smile as they get stuck in the coils. I look at my thick lips, wide nose, caramel-colored skin, and I tell myself, “Your black is beautiful!” (And, so is yours!)

My black is UNIQUE! My black is MAGICAL! My black is STRONG! My black is COURAGEOUS! My black is UNAPOLOGETIC! My black is PERFECT! My black is also hated, feared, misunderstood, and unwanted. Yet, people wonder why we turn our cameras on as soon as we see lights flashing behind us. Because we never know if our skin complexion will be just enough to provoke probable cause.

Pull us out the car, and cuff us while yelling stop resisting, though we haven’t resisted at all. Call in our information and search our car only to find out we’re clean. Everything’s in order! Yet, a simple traffic stop still turns into an arrest (don’t forget the beating and possible death). Why? Because we’re still viewed as thugs… criminals… niggers… Now, they’re reading us our rights…

But when they read, “You have the right to remain silent…” we never thought they meant literally…

BLACK LIVES MATTER!

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I am BEAUTIFUL. I am PASSIONATE. I will LOVE.