Written by Michelle Wyatt

I get it, the need to unify because the “dominant culture” has historically considered black and brown people all around the world as less than human; nothing more than mere cattle to be used for milk, meat, transportation or power; controlling the lives of individuals, taking away their ability to choose what they want to be in life, where they want to live and how much money they can or cannot make.

I do not object to, nor do I mind being connected to a great nation, and a race of people who have built pyramids, broken records, created countless inventions, entertaining and amazing people around the globe.

Black lives do matter, they really do.  We all must understand this concept, including myself; to ensure that as a human race we can advance collectively. The sad thing is some black lives will not understand their importance, nor accept their mark of excellence within, not to mention their God given right to advance beyond where they currently are.  Many of us have been gas-lighted, denied, broken, blocked, muted, and in some unfortunate incidences, destroyed, like dogs in the street.

My life matters too.  As a woman of color, I hold within me the blueprint for the future of tomorrow.  I am a lab, incubating and developing advanced kingdoms, creative ideas, and divine melodies.  This is God’s purpose for me.

The real question is: when will we all; no matter what the color, race, sex, nationality or religion learn to respect and treat people like humans, as opposed to indentured servants, used for the purposes of temporarily satisfying the insatiable desire to be “superior.”  In other words, “I need you right now,” but eventually, I will discard you like garbage.

I know what you are going to say.  How selfish must I be to even dare say these things at a time such as this?  But the truth is the only way to advance both individually and collectively. Can you reach deep down within, recognizing your own downfalls and your sin?  I am asking this of myself.

Furthermore, if all lives matter, why then don’t all lives count?  Why has my history been removed from the history books? We are only counted during a census, or an election year, data points on a chart, or beans in a jar that distinctly point out why, “You people have done this to yourselves.” We all know better.

I don’t want to be a data point, beans in a jar, or a number on a page. I want to be counted in life, as an intelligent, beautiful, creative celestial being, made in the image of God,  passing through this earth only once; existing to contribute my gifts to this world.  My life matters too.

‘Copyright’ 2020 Michelle Wyatt -All rights reserved.

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