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After voting in 2008, sat in my car and sobbed because I had the opportunity to vote for someone who looked like me.
Me, the granddaughter of folks who survived Jim Crow, who paid poll taxes in order to vote, who made the decision to send my mother to integrate her HS.
Me, the granddaughter of folks who survived Jim Crow, who paid poll taxes in order to vote, who made the decision to send my mother to integrate her HS.
I thought about my grandmothers, who were living at the time and how stunned they were that this option would be available in *their* lifetimes.
I thought about the work I do and how it contributes to a larger ecosystem of work that led to that moment.
I thought about the work I do and how it contributes to a larger ecosystem of work that led to that moment.
I sobbed. It was joy, sadness, pride, worry, indebtedness to the ancestors...It was more than a moment.
I sobbed again at both of the subsequent Obama inaugurations because #representationmatters.
I sobbed again at both of the subsequent Obama inaugurations because #representationmatters.
