On being tired | the luxury we don’t have.

Ya’ll I’m seeing posts about being tired.

Fannie said, “she was sick and tired of being sick and tired.” She also said, “We have got to take for ourselves.” Harriet said, “if ya’ll ain’t coming for your freedom, I’m out.” And Rosa said “hell naw, not today and never again.”

We come from a people who, with the sound of dogs at their heels, took their freedom. We come for a people who, with the threat of lynching whistling in the trees, sent their children to visit family knowing they might never see them again.

They did whatever it took.

Not in the demerits, uniforms and straight lines every day whatever it takes kind of way, but in the original, we’ve been doing this since the day we set foot in this country kind of way. The I will come back from working my 12 hour night shift, wake my children up to read to them, fight with the school teacher and school who want to put my black child in a remedial class because no one taught these people that genius is equally distributed, strategize one’s way through life to survive domestic abuse and eat one slice of pizza a day to ensure that my kids have enough to eat and then still find time to organize for liberation not just for our own children, but for all black and brown children whatever-it-takes kind of way.

With the knowledge of our people at our backs how can we — in the face of a bastardized execution of our US constitution and misguided American priorities — do anything but muster the strength we already possess to claw through it and work aggressively for solutions without being lulled into thinking surely someone else will solve this.

My people didn’t come all the way from Nigeria and leave everything behind so we could be tired — and neither did yours. Engage in self-care. Re-charge and restore. Stay angry.

And then let’s do this.