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Poem: Be Anything
I had such bright hopes and dreams when I believed I could be anything I tried strived over-achieved if thoughts manifest reality the American Dream wouldn’t be unreachable and life would be different all I truly wanted was freedom to be me without threat, violence shame or compromise how tragic being me proved to be the hardest thing ~ LaShawnda Jones, 2020
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Isabel de Olvera: I Demand Justice.
Isabel de Olvera: I Demand Justice. "I am going on the expedition to New Mexico and have some reason to fear that I may be annoyed by some individual since I am a mulatta, and it is proper to protect my rights in such an eventuality by an affidavit showing that I am a free woman, unmarried and the legitimate daughter of Hernando, a Negro, and an Indian named Magdalena...." 1600 AD Follow link to read full post.
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When did you become radicalized?
When were you radicalized? A Self-Reflection Exercise. When did you first see yourself in the struggle? When did you become unapologetic? When did you know you wouldn’t turn back? When did you acknowledge your trauma? When did you acknowledge your helplessness? When did you acknowledge your rage? When did you acknowledge your grief? Follow the link to read and share your story as well.
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Poem: Death is passive. Killing is not.
Poem: Death is passive, killing is not. by LaShawnda Jones Breathing is active. Breath is sacred. Air is life. We are all created beings with the same Right to Life and unhindered breathing. Access to air should not depend on Assumptions, opinions, political views, Occupation, wealth, social status, Skin color, mood, hatred of fellow humans or self-hatred. Access to air should not require legislation. Yet here we are.
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Pamela Turner: Two for the Carnage of One
Do this in remembrance of me. It’s psychological warfare physical murder spiritual bondage. Our sanity means nothing to the intentionally persistent assassins of our humanity. Our humanness has no value in the confrontation of violent entitlement& and moral disregard that assumes murder of “others” is the white person’s right – a privilege awarded to hunters; a prize for the domineering. I cried out to Jesus, only to be consumed by His weeping and grief. I raged at Democracy, only realize my own invisibleness. I shouted out to my neighbors but their thundering silence shamed me! I too may be America, but who is America? What we’ve become is who…
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Speech: “What, To The Slave, Is The Fourth Of July?”
by Frederick Douglass, 1852 Mr. President, Friends and Fellow Citizens: He who could address this audience without a quailing sensation, has stronger nerves than I have. I do not remember ever to have appeared as a speaker before any assembly more shrinkingly, nor with greater distrust of my ability, than I do this day. A feeling has crept over me, quite unfavorable to the exercise of my limited powers of speech. The task before me is one which requires much previous thought and study for its proper performance. I know that apologies of this sort are generally considered flat and unmeaning. I trust, however, that mine will not be so…
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Harvest Update – Book Release – Desert of Solitude
“This book is a must read. Desert of Solitude really helped me understand some things in life that I struggled with. It's very refreshing to see someone overcome so many obstacles I've struggled with. Thank you, sincerely.”
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A ‘Quest for Justice’ for a Murdered Civil Rights Pioneer, 52 Years Later
“She spent her whole life fighting for others. It’s time somebody started fighting for her."
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Quote: One Strike Left…
'You’ve got two strikes against you: You’re a woman and you’re a Negro.’ Yeah, but...
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Story
You died. I cried. And kept on getting up. A little slower. And a lot more deadly. ~ Assata Shakur, Assata: An Autobiography
