Nia | EffJay Photography | Kansas City, MO

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Words by Nia • Portraits by EffJay Photography

“I used to pray for Jesus to come back, for the world to end. I didn’t believe the world would change, could change. I was spiraling into hopelessness. I didn’t want to be in a world where there was so much misunderstanding. So much outright hate. 

What a piss poor attitude that was.

The spirit of my ancestors would not let me wallow in self-pity and timidity. The blood of Africans and Ashkenazi Jews run warm in my veins – resilient survivors. The blood of outspoken, determined West Indians.  I could not roll over and die. That is what remaining silent felt like. It is time to really live, to speak up. 

I did not give the world a chance to dim my light. I did it myself. “Here, let me,” I’d say with my actions. Let me tell you something, you will have to follow me around your store. You will have to ask for my receipt. You will have to show your true colours as you villianize mine. No longer will I accommodate you by diminishing and minimizing myself. It is time to shine.

I no longer want to tip-toe around topics of social justice and equality, compassion and empathy. If you don’t know by now that I am not anti-police, just anti-police brutality then that is on you. I no longer want to carry the weight of all you could potentially think of me. You can bear that burden yourself. You can have the sleepless nights. I don’t want to puree and spoon-feed analogies and metaphors until you get it. It is time to speak truth in love and let those who will receive it as such do so. You know what size balls it takes to wear a white, hooded robe in public? It’s either melons or marbles (I’m not sure) but that is the kind of conviction I now have. That’s how bold I want to be, need to be. 

So when you see me, see them. When you hug me, hug them. When you break bread with me, break bread with them. When you pray for me, pray for them. Them. Those who died on the streets, in their beds. Those who hung from trees or lay in fields. Those who died at sea. When you cross the street and clutch your purse and speak ill of them, you are doing it to me. It’s me they’ve given an unfair trial and sentence. It’s my neck they’ve knelt on. It’s my 15year old existence they were threatened by and killed. It’s me they’ve shot in my home and then set my murderer free. 

When your country plays a team sport internationally don’t you win if those athletes win and lose if they do? That collective feeling of victory or defeat is no different should be no different as we run this human race. 

If we are all the same...is it not you who’s also been wronged? 

If we all bleed red...shouldn’t your blood also boil with rage? 

If we should bear one another’s burdens...shouldn’t you also be as weary?

If we should treat others the way we want to be treated...then why do you mistreat yourself?”

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Nia is a wonderful friend of mine as well as a wife, mother, writer, and so much more. I’d encourage you to check out her personal blog here, to learn more about and from this incredible woman.