Liberation- noun; the act of setting someone free from imprisonment, slavery, or oppression. To release.
Can we get free? 
As I rock my child to sleep for her morning nap – that she fights against more n more and sleeps less n less for each day – I’m reflecting on my unapologetically black timelines today. Facebook, Twitter, and even the Gram are filled with…
Uproars pleading for justice.
Calls to stop with the respectability politics.
Cries due to the lack of treating those with melanin like humans.
Why is this so hard to do?
Why are we hated so much?
Why so much pushback when we ask to be treated the same as non-blacks?*
Why should parents have to fear for their 13 year old’s life when he steps out the house because a cop* may fear his 4’11, 95lb melanin-coated body? #TyreeKing
Why do siblings have to wonder if their brother stops on the side of the road that he will be seen as “a big bad dude” when in actuality he just needed assistance from those paid* to protect and serve? #TerenceCrutcher
Why is the list of things we can’t do while black growing longer each day? Now we can’t even read!? (North Carolina is an open carry state. No permit required. A Black man with a gun isn’t cause for killing him. So be it a book or a gun, both are legal…unless you’re black.) #KeithLamontScott
Why do friends have to worry police* will attempt to frame their friends because of their position on the right side of the movement? #toomanynamestoinsert
We can’t even wear our hair in its natural state without some disapproving soul attempting to force us to conform then having to protest against the horrible decisions of the disapprover.
Being black is exhausting.
The rule book (which only exists in the minds of privileged and/or racist whites and respectable negros) constantly changes. I can’t keep up! And while I wouldn’t change the way God made me, I sometimes pray my race could catch a break.
On Aug 10 I made a post regarding the pledge of allegiance. 
In all my years of teaching (12), I’ve never been a fan. I pledge allegiance to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; not a flag. (And you can’t make me: READ.)
It didn’t take gymnasts or a football player standing up for what they believed in regarding the national anthem to make me realize these songs and chants are a load of crock. Take them apart bit by bit and you too will realize they’re 1- not true and 2- were not written with “justice for all races” in mind.
Pledging allegiance and singing an anthem have yet to liberate us.
(This sidenote was posted wits the original Facebook status update: One year while teaching the meaning of the pledge and getting into the history and lives of the first Americans – not Columbus n em – I was so thrilled that even kids get it. They were realizing things just weren’t matching up with America the great. Without me giving my opinions and simply teaching facts, they could see that freedom wasn’t free for all people though the poetic lyricism of pledges and anthems would have you thinking differently.) 
Anywho, the backlash received from strangers was atrocious, but it’s the world in which we live. Cyber cowards, like Maryann, Coby, Michael, and Savannah, feel comfortable saying everything on their mind no matter how incorrect they are. Some never seem to realize just how wrong they are. THAT in itself is a major problem. 
And regardless how many are killed unjustly, there’s always those saying, “well if he’d just comply…” Or “she shouldn’t have talked back…” And so many other ridiculous excuses which seem to exonerate the killer cops before the case is even considered for trial.
I’m tired.
My people are tired.
Can we get a day off?
Can we get the real monsters, the killer cops, off the streets?
Can we not be seen as rotten just for breathing?
These thoughts got to be overwhelming today, so I took a break from this post to be with family and smile and laugh. I won’t feel bad for being able to enjoy my loved ones especially in a world that would prefer we all go back to Africa (even though the ones who say this have no claim to Amerikkka – remember Columbus – but never mind that fact).
As the sun goes down, I’m now holding my baby a little tighter. This weekend while dialoguing with those in support of Hands Up United’s Books and Breakfast, it was mentioned that black revolution isn’t just protesting. It’s loving those closest to you. It’s talking to people about ways they too can help make a difference. It’s staying educated on current events. And for me it’s living with my child’s black future in mind. 
So even when I want to quit, I have to stay strong for my baby girl. I have to make sure she knows no matter how much the world hates her without knowing her, she exudes #blackexcellence! Things won’t improve in my lifetime, and perhaps not even hers, but the fight must be fought as the revolution carries on. Which side are you on friend?