Black History. Always.
When asked to describe a black person that I find inspiring, not one comes to mind. Not, of course, to say that I am not inspired and moved by the incredible accomplishments of black people. I just cannot put one of these magnificent human beings above the others. The strength and resilience of this group of people will never fail to amaze me. There is so much darkness and pain in their bloodlines. Terrible injustice. Abuse, oppression, prejudice. A myriad of horrible stories that their ancestors actually lived through. It makes me sick. It makes me sad. It almost makes me want to stop writing. As a white person, I am appalled and disgusted at the suffering some of my ancestors must have caused these innocent people. They stole their lives. They took away their heritage, their humanity, their sovereignty. No amount of words can properly convey the horror. It weighs so heavy on my heart and in my mind.
