My heart hurts for my people. My soul feels helpless, empty. I feel empty. You would think that after all these years and after so much bloodshed that this country, these people would understand. But, in all honesty, my concern is no longer for them and their understanding; my concern is simply for the longevity of my people. How can we help ourselves? How can we begin to build our own independence? How can we educate ourselves and create our own way of life? How can we connect? Unify? How can we begin to trust one another and support one another? How can we reclaim our heritage? Our culture? These questions keep me up at night and they weigh on me throughout the day. I cannot escape. I am bond to my need, my urge to help. But how? Who will listen to little old me? Though I feel that this is my purpose, I am not sure how to begin living it. I do know that I can no longer sit around and wait for someone or something to come in and help my community, my family, and my people. The only way we will ever defeat our oppressor is by first unifying and working together to reconstruct our neighborhoods. We need to get involved in our local level elections and participate in city council meetings. We definitely need to become more involved in the education of our children. No one can teach our history the way we can teach our history. There is so much to do and most of us are sitting around as if we have time but we don’t. I still have faith in my people and in what can and will accomplish. I believe in our strength and that we are warriors. We may have a long road ahead of us but with unity anything is possible.