This morning when I woke up I thought about the times my brother and I were stopped by the police because we happened to live in a nice neighborhood. Or showing up for the first day of school as the only black kid in the entire school.
Those are the moments when you think the country will never be able to get past racism. Those are the times when the idea of a black pesident seems unfathomable.
My parents grew up in a time when blacks were literally second class citizens. My father drank out of colored fountains and my mother entered through colored entrances at restaurants.
Even though they always told my brother and I that we could do anything, they feel like now we can really see it.
This moment is overwhelming in so many ways that it may not even become real until Jan. 20. Maybe that day will go down in history with days like Juneteenth or Dr. King's birthday as a day that our country truly began healing from centuries of pain.
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