Who am I to Despair?
My ancestors were stolen from their lands, forced to endure a transatlantic nightmare of imprisonment, disease, violence, rape, and despair, where at journey’s end they were forced into chattel slavery by sadists. Still, with everything they ever known and loved cruelly taken away, these enslaved people hoped and fought because they believed, if tomorrow could not bring better for them, then at least it could deliver hope for their children.
With only the barest promise of freedom, these same ancestors, dared to risk everything. In a strange land, with armed men and dogs at their heels, they fled from plantations through the dead of night towards an impossible dream.
Our ancestors repeatedly lost everything. Colfax, Tulsa, Rosewood, Wilmington, Elain, and many others little known or now lost to history, all mercilessly burned to the ground. They lost their community, homes, and businesses to violent White mobs. Time and time again these Black families rebuilt as best they could while enduring the barbed taunts of “What’s wrong with Blacks? Why don’t you have anything?”
We fought Nazis for a country that still abused, hated, and ridiculed us. In a military that refused to fully accept us or acknowledge our achievements. A military that routinely treated German POWs with more consideration and respect than the Black soldiers sacrificing their lives.
In Mississippi, Birmingham, Little Rock, Selma, Nashville, and many other places across the U.S, countless Black women and men accepted they were doomed but still fought on for Civil Rights. They were lynched, disappeared, firebombed, assassinated, attacked with dogs, and routinely beaten bloody. They fought not only for themselves but also to bring the gift of change to those who would come after them.
Who am I to ever despair? Born in this age, where so much sacrifice has given me more hope than many before me ever lived to see.
Even now, in this time, with a so-called president who openly coddles and romances White Nationalist thugs, and terrorists. As the Black Community once again face those who are made legion in their collective spite, who would do us harm, tear us down, and make a mockery of our existence. I will not despair. I know there is still hope because so many died to give me this gift. In these protests I see the spirit and courage of the fight we have been forced into so many times. If even exhausted, the Black Community struggles on, not only for itself, but for the sake of those who will come after us.
My heart is heavy over the senseless murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. But I will carry their names with me. I will draw strength from all the sacrifices that allowed me to be here and gave me a voice. I will remember that despair cannot bring these latest Black victims the justice they deserve.
In honor of those who came before us, and for the sake of those after us, we will carry on.
