I realize it’s been a while since I wrote more on my book. I feel stuck in the sense that I started to research my ancestors on Ancestry with the hope that I could learn something about myself and those ancestors that I didn’t even know.

Surprisingly, I discovered more than I expected, but unfortunately, the information was bittersweet. To learn of a great-grandfather and to realize he was a slave is disheartening. Sure I heard it in passing from my parents, but to see it in writing was another thing. I, of all folks, should have known better to ask Goggle what it was like for slaves during the 1800s. This entire climate of CRT (Critical Race Theory) is just that, a theory. I want to know facts, and the facts are in the learning.

America has let me down. I feel anger to the point of rage. Yet, I have to continue to rise with my ancestors being the wind to my back. I do not want to live life dangling around wandering in orbit as if I don’t have a responsibility to carry the torch laid at my feet for the opportunities that I can snag along the way.

Life is tough. There is no fairness in the game of cards society has dealt people such as me, noted in Article 1, Section 2 of the Constitution, counted as 3/5 of a person, yet I rise. It takes every ounce of my being to extinguish the fire in me that this claim is a myth, despite there being a change by section 2 of Amendment 14. I am whole as a person, two eyes, two hands, two ears, two legs, two feet, a complete set of fingers and toes, a head on my shoulders, a brain, blood that bleeds like others. Regardless, if those limbs were missing, that makes me no less than a person to be counted. I cannot and will not succumb to the hatred of this world; even if I have to stand alone, I will rise. I will write and continue my book. It’s a must and my ancestors depend on me to tell our story. I cannot, and I will not remain baffled.