When someone asks me “who I am?”
I tell them:
I am the great mind that was taken from the motherland.
I am the one that survived the middle passage.
I am the one that built a nation with my blood sweat and tears.
I am the visionary that built and invented things that changed modern America.
I am Claflin, South Carolina State, Benedict, Allen, Howard, Clark, Spelman, Morehouse, Bethune-Cookman, Tuskegee, Paine and other Historically Black Colleges or Universities that taught young people that they are great.
I am the Divine 9.
I am the Harlem Renaissance.
I am jazz, soul, blues, gospel, and hip-hop.
I am the sharecropper, maid, and nanny.
I am the farmer, the seamstress, the factory worker, and teacher.
I am the midwife, doctor, and nurse.
I am the strange fruit that hung from southern trees.
I am the marcher, the freedom rider, and the children that died in Birmingham.
I am the civil rights movement.
I am the future that Martin dreamed about.
I am the hope and change that Obama spoke of.
I am strong.
I am great.
I am blessed.
I am a child of God.
I am Black America