I need a job. I need a call back. I need an opportunity for an interview. And my name, as strong as it is soft, is heavy under this weight…
Now, I can say it with all the rage it so rightfully deserves, I can whisper it with all the peace I am claiming as my own: I am an angry Black woman.
This “legacy of silence”, according to Tatum is part of the reason why we have such a difficulty talking about race.
My faith is integrated with fear. My love is comingled with hate. My peace is at war with anger. Are your ears silent to my anguish when I call?
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