I used to fantasize about how active I would have been if I were an adult in the 60’s. I imagined that I’d march and sit in and boycott, doing what I could every day to advance the cause of Civil Rights.
Then I realized about five years ago that the fight for those rights is not over; the prejudices and violence have just shifted form. I also realized that I must act. My age and life choices prevent me from contributing, marching and demonstrating as often as I thought I might.
And what I realized is that really seeing my fellow Blacks, wherever we are, is something I can do for the cause. The history, perseverance and strength of us make me proud. My adoration brings me to tears. I love us.
I look for my Blacks everywhere: on the street, among small business owners, in hospitals, on planes, in movies and in the grocery store. I search for them and when I find them I give them love. I give them my full support: I look them in the eye, I buy from them, I acknowledge them, I help them. I love them. All of them.