Yesterdays' Juneteenth was the best Freedom Holiday I've ever experienced. I've celebrated Juneteenth before and The Fourth of July, of course. But, something about yesterday hit different. Something about the rest of the world being more aware than ever of all the reasons we have to celebrate. Something about our ancestral lines connecting me to every brother and sister I passed filled me up to the brim
I remember in my younger days coming home crying because of my name. I remember being called out for the roughness of my hands. I remember the jokes around my 4c hair. I remember getting made fun of all the time for the darkness of my skin. When I was celebrated for my beauty it came in the form of: "You're cute for a dark skin girl" or "You'd be cute if you were light skin". I remember my dad coaching me on the rebuttal trying to teach me the strength that I know now
"The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice" .
Yesterday, as I walked the streets bumping Tupacs album "Strictly for my Niggaz" on recommendation from my dad, I realized something. I am not even the berry. I'm the whole goddamn tree. I am the fruit that will nourish the earth in a way it's never experienced before. I possess limbs strong enough to carry the weight of all those who came before. My skin reflects the darkness my ancestors journeyed through in their quest to find freedom. My calloused hands were gifted as a reminder of the work my ancestors put in to build this Nation. I am Goddess personified.
I am so proud to be Black.
I am so proud to be vocal about my stance on the movement.
I am proud to be gifted the responsibility of fulfilling my ancestral legacy.
I am proud to be me, Billie Krishawn.