A letter to my beautiful, black, educated self

Hey Queen,

I know sometimes this world can be so hard on you, so let me remind you of who you are, and just how far you've come.

Four years. 40 months. Approx. 200 weeks. 120 credit hours. 675 hours of studying per semester. That’s 5,400 study hours total.

You put in work sis!

Oh wait

Do you remember when you took 2 years off because you started believing your own lies of unworthiness. Like the skies limit was too intangible, trapped in your impoverished, complacent, post college debt mentality?

Yet you rose to that occasion too. With a toddler, full time job, and obligations in the church and community. Even your own kind were shocked that little ole you, could defy even the biggest of odds.

A masters degree!

You walked across the same stage as everyone else, you intentionally wrote down the phonetic spelling of your name, Yet somehow they managed to mispronounce the defining piece of your identity.

Beautiful ,black, bold, educated, creative, wise, confident, resilient , powerful, anointed ,

Rule breaking, game changing, revolutionary

Yet when you walked into the interview, the corporate board room, the school building, with class and grace, somehow you felt an inkling of inferiority because all they saw was young and black

You spoke “intelligently” for a black girl

You attended to every off the wall/ curve ball question they could throw your way

You articulated your content understanding in a way, that was far above the facilitators understanding

You were overqualified sis! Yet you took the pay cut just to get your foot in the door, in hopes that some day you could work your way up the ladder of hypocrisy

When you were the only one in the room, oh yes you weren’t seeing things, all eyes were on you

And sometimes you code switched, you gave up a little of you, just to be received by a lot of them

Remember when you didn’t know where your next meal was coming from, yet you sat amongst people throwing around money and somehow all you could taste was shame, and swallow it like it was the hardest pill you ever choked on.

When you finally defined your community, and found a few other sistas that looked like you, they told y’all to pipe down, because your blackness was too reckless for their understanding

When you sat in trainings on diversity, equity, and inclusion or they asked questions about culture, race, and evident achievement disparities, and all eyes in the room turned your way to be the voice of reason - but all you could do was look back in silence like my words are gold - cut my check!

Yet you were still torn like this ignorance isn’t blissful and my silence is destroying my brown and black babies who are being impacted by their privileged bigoted ignorance

When you sat in the break room, attempting to chime in on conversations, and they spoke around you as if your presence was nonexistent.

When you heard others refer to black and brown children as “lower class” “those kids” “the poor kids” as if they are animals in a zoo, or owned property, whose mothers and fathers grind all day so their kids can rest at night. The same children who come from families full of master’s and doctorate degrees, lawyers, and doctors, police officers, and school teachers who care for ALL like their own. Who don’t cut corners to get ahead, because “food stamps” is not the generalized identity that they speak of.

Before our lineage was ever enslaved, we were rulers. There is a wealth of resource flowing through our veins! Reality is, the only thing imprisoned is their sight, not my success.

They must not know that we are ROYALTY!

Remember how it felt when you cried behind that classroom door while your students were at lunch, because you just couldn’t fathom to understand how they couldn’t see what your beautiful brown eyes could see

How you ate lunch in your car alone, because you had to protect your peace. And feeling like an “outsider” literally pushed you outside

But baby girl let me tell you!

You were the seed that grew from the dirt they threw you in

The rose that grew from the concrete and yes, even in this you will rise!

You are brave. You are courageous. You are resilient.

YOU ARE MAGIC

Don’t ever settle. Dim your light. Silence your voice. Or diminish your character for a world that will intentionally work over time to misunderstand you.

Rise above the politics and slave influenced boxes they try to trap you in.

Go where you are celebrated, not tolerated. Your degrees hold weight, and even without those, your name is enough to rise above any small minded expectation of you!

And every time you walk into that room, walk in like you are the best thing that has ever happened to them.

Speak boldly. And continue to challenge the statistics and norms.

Your melanin glistens like glaze on a doughnut...

You are soul, light, and nourishment.

You replenish the mundane cycle of the status quo.

This is your queendom! This world is yours! Take it by force!