Someone once told me that the story of Tamir Rice changed them to their core. They said hearing of a twelve-year-old boy murdered in the park left them in fear of all the carefree Black boys who wanted a chance to live.

Tamir Rice hurt my soul from the inside out but it didn't change me.

Alton Sterling did-- Friday, July 8, 2016, at around 1 in the morning I watched the video of this Black man get executed  by the police and it changed me. I saw this man, this Black man, this Black father, this Black loved one, get shot. Screw that. I felt this man, this Black man, this Black father, this Black loved one, get shot. I felt the pain, I felt the agony, I felt the defeat, rush through me. I felt the burning of bullets manifest as tears into my eyes. I cried with his son as his whole world shattered because that's when the one-sided glass over my eyes did.

I always knew that America didn't love the Black man. I knew that they didn't value a Black life. I knew that they feared us. I knew that they could get away with murdering us. This time, it was different, something clicked inside of me. Something broke inside of me. Alton Sterling was on the ground, Alton Sterling wasn't resisting, Alton Sterling had no reason to be seen as a threat. The execution of Alton Sterling made me scared for your lives for the very first time in my life. That's what changed.

I'm scared for you-- as tears burn the backs of my eyes and my long skinny finger shake I write this letter to you. My dear hermanitos, they fear you because of your Blackness. I love you because of it. I feel your magic each and every day. I feel your magic through the musical sound of your laughter, the sparkle in your eye and the brilliance that you radiate. From the kinks in your hair and the coils in your mane to the caramel and dark chocolate of your skin. From the day you were born, I loved you. Before you were born, I loved you. At four years old I told God there was no one I wanted besides a brother. At fourteen I did the same. I never feared for you but now, I do. I begged for you to brought into this world and now I beg for you to be kept safe. You are a Browne, a Rodriguez, a Glover, a Chisholm, a Holiday. The blood running through your veins paved the road of this country. The pain of your forefathers built this country. Our inventions shaped this country. Our music moved this country. You are part of that, you contributed to this country.

It's 4:43 in the morning, five days after Alton Sterling's murder and I still can't sleep. I stay awake thinking "what can I do?" and here it is. I can fight for you. I owe this country nothing, but I owe you two everything. A fear has ignited in me but that fear has manifested into a raw feeling. I could call it determination, drive, or outright "I will do everything I can to protect my brothers". Mis hermanitos, you mean everything to me. This isn't just for you. This is for all the little black boys and girls that have been stripped of their innocence, the men that are feared, and the women that aren't valued. This is for you in your past, present and future.

So go ahead. Be as happy as you can be, laugh, score that goal, get that A, be an amazing artist, invent, inspire, be you, be young, be carefree, be Black.

This country doesn't love you, but I do.

‍