Fight for our lives.

In this country, a black man only has like 5 years that we can exhibit maximum strength. And that’s right now. While you’re a teenager, while you’re still strong or while you still wanna lift weights, while you still wanna shoot back. Cause once you turn 30 it’s like they take the heart and soul out of a man, out of a black man in this country. And you don’t wanna fight no more. And if you don’t believe me you can look around, you don’t see no loud mouth 30 year old muthafuckas.

-Tupac Shakur

To say that this has been a tough week for black folks would be a huge understatement. We’ve been in this country for about 20,000 weeks now. None of them have been walks in the park. Still, this one hurt more more than usual. The week had potential to be decent. With Monday being the 4th of July, (I don't celebrate) it would be a short work week for most of us. That’s always a positive. NBA Free Agency was more active than usual, so that was great for sports fans. Monday and Tuesday, the biggest news story was Kevin Durant teaming up with Steph nem. Now, that seems so miniscule, and so long ago.

We have seen our brothers ALTON STERLING and PHILANDO CASTILE killed by shots fired by cops who took an oath and are paid (by us) to protect and serve. We are still trying to convince this corrupt system that BLACK LIVES MATTER, it is painfully clear that the system does not agree.

My strength was tested this week. I had many conversations with my friends about what we were dealing with. Sadly, none of us were surprised by any of the events that took place this week. Why would we be? This is nothing new, black people have been treated worse than shit in this country ever since Plymouth Rock landed on us. It was getting to me. I’ve always been a fighter, trying to think of ways to bring change. I couldn’t think of any. Are these just the times that we live in? This is how it has always been for us, here. Is this how it will always be?

I am tired. Tired of seeing black men bleed to death when I look at my phone, tired of hearing that all lives matter, tired of hearing black women and young children cry because the men in their lives have been stolen from them, tired of knowing that even though the murders were recorded that these cops will probably never see the inside of a cell. I'm tired of hearing excuses, STOP KILLING US.

I am tired of cops being killed, which is tragic, and something that I do not support, being compared to the murders that cops are committing. A police officer's life being at risk is a hazard of the job. A job that they signed up for. This is why they are issued a gun, armor, a brotherhood that will stand by them no matter how poor of a job that they do, and what seems to be a license to kill anyone that makes them feel threatened in the least bit, even if they are fully complying with the law. We are not issued any of these tools a long with the targets on our back that we receive at birth. And we for damn sure don't receive a pension with full benefits after twenty years of being black.

I felt hopeless. I felt helpless. I felt drained. I was growing weak.

I will be 30 in less than a month now. Maybe Tupac was right, have I lost my heart and soul? Have I lost my desire to fight? Will I be silent? Should I just try to stay safe and hope that I don’t become the next hashtag?

I am grieving for my people. That could be my family standing at the podium just hours after I was executed. I am already hurting for our future. Will this ever change? My wife and I are trying to bring a black baby into this world, what will we be getting him into?

Thursday night, I read a beautiful, heartbreaking article on my favorite website, theundefeated.com by Justin Tinsley. He shared a lot of the thoughts that were going through many of our minds,including myself.

“The sobs of Cameron Sterling, and a 4-year-old child’s last images of her mother’s boyfriend are the newest tattooed tears. Emotions like the ones I’ve battled these past few days make me wary of having a family. I want to have kids and a wife. I do. But I can’t help thinking that if I don’t have a family, then I have fewer people to leave behind in pain. The world has me contemplating aborting the best part of me before I even get a chance to create him or her. Every man has a breaking point — and I’m nearing mine.”  

My heart went out for him when I read this. I knew exactly where he was coming from. I was at the same point.

I woke up Friday with a realization. I am black. Being crippled by fear is not an option. To be black is to be strong and fearless. It is in our DNA. If we stopped moving forward when we got tired, or frustrated, or felt hopeless, our bloodlines would’ve died a long time ago.  That is not an option. That is not what we do. We didn't give up during the middle passage. Nor during slavery. Nor during Jim Crow. And we won't give up now. We don’t die, we multiply. I won’t accept throwing in the towel. As long as I am breathing, I will always fight. I will always want more for my people and myself.

If anything, this will make us fight harder. The people that hate us and want to kill us off, want us to give up, but it will not happen. We will grow stronger. We will grow closer. We will build each other up, and hold each other down. We will develop new plans and ideas until we receive what we deserve, and are treated how we need to be treated. We will not be broken.

Individually, I will continue to strive for black excellence. I will work on my weaknesses. I will not let my light be dimmed. I will love my people harder. I will do and give more. I will continue to live to the fullest. I will continue to work towards my purpose. I will work to exceed my potential. I will stay on my life's mission: Do good, Be great.

My wife and I will not let the evil in this world prevent us from having the family that we want. We will continue to keep trying, and hopefully soon, we will have a black son. (I will continue to claim a baby boy until he comes, I need backup in this house.) We will raise him to be great. We will raise him up to be proud. We will raise him to be strong, compassionate and caring. I pray that he doesn’t have to endure the same things that we are dealing with now, but if he does, he will be prepared to fight for what is right with his head held high. That is what we do.