Something is Happening

 An opportunity presents itself.

There is the buzz.

The groundswell.

The enough-is-enough.

It is Election Day in this country.

A country deeply divided and wounded by the nasty vitriolic bantering of hate. 

But something is happening.

Maybe it is that one too many neighbor was snatched while taking their kids to school or another unexplained strange fruit or simply, honestly, for some, they just can't afford to eat.

I live in a predominately Anglo state.

Most of the people I see begging on the street corners do not look like me.

In this nation, though, it has always been the poor white people that have been the "base" behind the hate.

The oligarchs have always told them, from the first Irish and Italian immigrants to the waves of African and Latinx immigrants, that the ones who are the source of their problems are the Black Americans, the ones whose ancestors were unwillingly brought here and toiled in the hot sun to build this nation.

The others were in such a quest to "be American" that they forgot to "be human."

So here we are, about two years into the nation's generational trauma and psychological damage, that there is a wind of change.

Maybe folks needed to hurt enough, or realize, that we, the 92% of Black American, African American women who voted for everyone's best interest, were right all along in our analysis.

We are the mothers, the keepers, the ones who had to clean up after Miss Anne who refused to even wipe her own behind during slavery times. The one who wouldn't nurse her own children or even clean her own house.

We, ancestrally, know about them, the ones who did wrong to all forms of humankind.

And we tried to tell the nation.

But who listens to Black women?

They had to feel our absence, we weren't wearing pink hats and at protests like the BeckySallyAnnSueHaleys of 2016. We knew them.

We collectively started building, teaching, and groundswelling.

As we have always done.

Kamala and Sister Mary Antona Ebo, Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune and Jahana Hayes, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, Anna Julia Cooper, and Stacey Abrams. And so many others.

The children heard us.

The ones who were little during Ferguson and watched some of what went wrong.

They are grown now, college graduates or college attendees. 

So when some tried to make voting impossible, they pulled from the ancestors and put on their walking shoes, got their water bottles, and prayed with their feet.

But it is not over yet.

Just like in 2016 and 2020 and 2024.

What matters most is if people show up and this time, show up in so large a number that there isn't a doubt.

No third party shenanigans.

No last minute shucking-and-jiving-preacher-wanna-be-white-so-bad-pulpit-pimping. No one telling you that your vote doesn't matter. No one telling you that it is a waste of time.

Guarantee, that the ones standing out there begging are voting.

The ones on Welfare of the anglovariety are voting, and not because they suddenly found love for Black Americans or are no longer scared of the educated Muslim couples in New York and Michigan. No, they are voting because they have hit below rock bottom and want relief.

But here is the thing, if not careful, the same hate that produced this vitriol is still a poisonous root in this nation that must be eradicated, like dandelions, can't just pluck off the head and think the danger is gone.

I pray for this nation to wake up.

I pray for change.

And I voted.

©2026. Sipping a latte in my little apartment praying for a change that gone come.