By now, you’ve probably heard about the thousands of people that occupied the streets of Atlanta on Friday night to protest police brutality and white supremacy. I was one of those folks. When the day started, I wasn’t sure if I would go. I waged an internal battle. My brain came up with excuse after excuse and my heart shot everyone down. I got on the train I take home and made that detour. I was wracked with anxiety from the time I stepped off the train to the car ride home. Still, I felt exhilarated. It’s the morning after and even though I feel like I got ran over by a herd of buffalo, I’m full. Dare I say, I’m happy.
But, I’m not here to gush. I have some thoughts. Let’s get into it.
Down My Niggaz: Unity
In the past, whenever someone said Black people aren’t able…
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