I love words.

I wish that I could use them to paint a picture for someone who has not endured the ramifications of microaggressions, to help them see exactly how even low-level, micro amounts of hate and injustice have exponentially profound effects on the hearts, minds, and emotions of those who receive them.

I wish. I’ve tried. Time has taught me better.

I no longer seek to be understood or heard by those who do not have the purity of heart and desire to listen with compassion.

So now, I am building.

Building and not shrinking back.

Building with the intention that every single child should know their value—be seen, loved, and heard. That every single child understands that the coloring of their skin is a gift, not a curse. That their excellence is implied and their life? Resplendent. Glorious.

Building so that one day, people will know that justice and faith can be synonyms when one's heart is turned toward the Father.

Building to reach up, back, and in between, and to lend my shoulders for some to stand on.

Building because the social construct of race has real worl ramifications that must be confronted.

Building because our foremothers never shrunk back, and neither should we.