Say. Their. Names. Black. Lives. Matter.

Now, the headline at the forefront of the minds of the entire world is George Floyd. Say His Name. George Floyd. I was hoping that by this time in my life I would be able to add racism to the list of endings that I am happy to see coming over the horizon, but I cannot. There are so many names and so many hashtags that I cannot count them, and these are only the ones we know of and the ones caught on camera. I cannot even see ten steps ahead of me through the blur caused by the tears in my eyes.

As a Black Woman, I feel like I'm at a crossroads here. On one hand, I feel the need to shout and scream and yell and use my voice, but on the other hand, I don't want to be criminalized or labeled as that stereotypical "Angry Black Girl" that people already see me as.

There are too many emotions, too many words, too much hate, too much of my love, too much confusion for me to define any particular overriding feeling to describe myself with regards to everything going on in the world right now, how it affects me and those around me, and what I wish I could do about it.

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Although I have always been aware of these facts, these past couple of years, months, and especially weeks, I have been blinded by the stark differences between me and the people I have grown up around.

For the most of my life, I have been the one and only Black person or POC in friend groups, classes, school areas, clubs, teams, or whatever else, and I've really tried to never let it get to me; sadly, my initial reaction to this was to ignore my Blackness to blend in and avoid discomfort. Then I got to high school and I found a group of people who looked like me, thought like me, and could identify with me on multiple levels. And even those who didn't look like me loved me, not in spite of, but along with and because of my Blackness.

With everything COVID separating the human race, and everything racial revealing people's true colors, I feel alienated once again due to the forced emotional and physical distance. After being away from home for 3 years and now being home for another break without being able to convene with and uplift my church family, my friends, and my race, caused a lot of emotional stress and confusion.

Along with that, I am working in my life to reduce the feeling I have that I constantly need those around me to validate me. The fear and anger that I feel as a response to the recent news and headlines is pulling me in so many different directions of wanting people to understand as much as possible about the current situation, and not giving into the feeling that I owe something to everyone in my life who I've never really expressed my Blackness to, and the pressure I feel to validate and explain my experience, existence and worth.

As the only Black person in some of my social circles, I don't always want to have to take up the role of explaining the situation or logic behind what is and isn't good about everything going on and standing up for the entire community that my identity makes me an ambassador for.

I was physically shaking when I first typed out my answers to some questions about the intentions of the protesters or rioters and movements around the world because I had been restraining and censoring myself for so long.

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George Floyd should not have had a memorial service today. George Floyd should not have suffered for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. George Floyd deserved to be treated with the respect of a human being. George Floyd should have been able to see his children again.

George Floyd. George Floyd. George Floyd. George Floyd. George Floyd. George Floyd.

George Floyd's death sparked a movement unlike any we've seen before. People are protesting all over the country, in more then 10 other countries, and has brought together factions of people who have been divided - or at least separated - for what seems like forever. His 6 year old Giana stood in a protest and said, smiling, "My daddy changed the world." And he did just that.

As a Black woman in America, I genuinely have a fear for my life and the potential chance every time I leave the house that I won't make it home. I have God in my heart and on my side, but I still have to deal with the war of love and hate going on around me in the world.

What scares me even more is the malice and evil that is unnecessarily and unjustly attributed to Black males: our fathers, brothers, uncles, sons, and nephews. I fear for all of my relatives who are perceived in the world as a dangerous, uncontrollable criminal NO MATTER WHAT he presents himself as.

While the violence is enough to infuriate and instill fear, it's his name that gets me every time. Say His Name. George Floyd. To me, I hear George Hines - all three in my family - my grandfather, my uncle, and my cousin. I also hear the names of my other uncles and my cousins, all of whom are good people.

Watching George Floyd's going home service today agitated a fire that's been burning in me for the last 20 years, and I am tired of trying to contain it. I am pledging to myself to do any and everything in my power to support the BLM movement and every other movement working for the advancement of American society and the support of Black achievement. Even if you don't want to pledge to vote or pledge to donate or protest or march or post, pledge to yourself that you will not be on the wrong side of history and use your voice in some way - even if it's just in person to call out the prejudices of the people around you.

It will truly take each and every one of us to educate ourselves, vote, and hold our elected officials accountable every step of the way to create a lasting, meaningful change in our system. We cannot stop once George Floyd has justice, because the best way to be and stay healthy - as a human and as a country - is PREVENTION. We need to get people in office who will make, push, and enforce laws that continue to protect EVERYONE going forward.

Do what you can, stand up for those around you, educate yourself, use your privilege - all of it - and SAY THEIR NAMES.