After the murder of Mayor Harold Washington, the adults around me Marched collectively. It was both scary and exciting, but being Black was important.
I participated in a massive protest in Chicago when I was about four or five years old. Everyone, from teachers to activists, seemed to be out on the streets. It was my first time protesting, and it almost became my last. That day, I became aware of my race and realized that I had a choice of how to express it, fight for it, and live it out.