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Dear USA

Dear USA,

It’s been many years since I left home, a place I loved and freely roamed.

Born in nineteen sixty-three amidst a war across the sea.

n the south where I grew up, desegregation bloomed like butter cups.

Children from the city known for song were placed on buses and travelled long.

In class three a bus stopped to park at my school, out poured children red, Black, and blue. I was excited to see their faces, unaffected by our different races.

In class three I played daily with Antoine, Joyce, and tiny Bailey.

Their dark brown eyes to this day, warm my heart in a solemn way

Clasped hands white and brown, skipping rope and running `round.

We merrily sang until the school bell rang,

“Ring around the rosies, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down!” All while spinning on the merry-go-round.

Taking turns we felt each other’s hair, our teacher smiled as we sat in our chairs.

Our teacher too was brown and had a baby growing, we all were told as she was showing.

I recall a day while she was on duty, a white boy gave her a gift, two hand knit booties.

Her face lit up for they were hand sewn by his white mother, someone unknown.

“Bussing” humans, the government cited, was a success as we were united

Now I am sixty in a far away land, my country divided like it all began.

Red, Black, and blue a whole other meaning, what happened to us playing and singing?

Society scarred and sour, carelessly handled by no superpower.

I hate you yet long for you, your troubles are mine, too.

I defend you, our people, your resilience, and pride

Yet I am broken as the world watches in stride. Guns, shootings, and Black American’s still, fighting to live without being killed.

How are Antoine, Joyce, and Bailey? Are your babies now men, are they worried daily?

Protest signs, riots are all still there, not in my memory but daily in flares!

As children we huddled in tornado drills, giggled, joked, and made small squeals.

Now although in so called unition school drills are needed against ammunition

At eight with Antoine, Joyce, and Bailey side by side, we never imagined our lives would divide.

I never imagined I’d live across the sea; I wonder if they remember me

As headlines roll in from my home state, peace and love are still a debate

The flag which waves before me is yellow and blue, this country is not perfect, yet better it’s true.

Democracy, hypocrisy, all countries have crisis; I expected my homeland to still be the nicest.

I stand at the shore of the North Sea as tears well up for my Tennessee.

The little girl inside still cares about you, the USA, red, Black, and blue.

Sincerely,

Hope

#blm #Racism #Tennessee #desegregation #Childhood #bussing #Love #Friendship #usa #Discrimination #peace #whitepriviledge #democracy

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#MeToo

Finished reading Tarana Burke’s Unbound. I can’t recall the last time I read a 250 page book in 2 days in between working. Captivating. What a story. But more importantly, I’m called to recognize my white privilege in my freedom to tell my sexual abuse story without the retaliation of my entire race to contend with. Not minimizing the experience of anyone who has experienced sexual violence, but those in black, brown, queer, transgender and otherwise marginalized communities don’t have the same safety net that I do. There’s a boatload of work that needs to be done on this front. Eye opening. #MeToo #SexualViolence #blm #LGBTQ #WhitePrivilege #Trauma

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I used to use SM to calm my anxiety and ignore my stress alarm ringing. With so many triggering imaging, videos, and articles it’s hard to just mindlessly scroll through endless posts. The worst part of it is not having anyone around to talk to about it.

Taking time away from the screen has been wonderful but staying uninformed is not desirable. I guess There are greater benefits with staying off social media than there is being formed. I still support the cause just from a position in which is healthy for me. #blm