Chocolate

Sometimes I pretend to eat my daughter’s cheeks. Her perfect rosy plump cheeks that have been passed down through my mom’s side of the family. She always giggles and pretends to want me to stop, but I tell her she’s just “too sweet!”.

Today she got me with my own tactic and starting attacking me with kisses and giggles all over my face. It was perfect. When I pretended to protest, she looked at me and said “But you taste like chocolate! You look like chocolate and you taste like chocolate and I love you.” It almost brought me to tears.

Obviously I’m not surprised by the sweet and innocent nature of a 4-year-old towards her mom. But in a time when skin color seems like one of the only things that matters, it’s so damn refreshing to hear. I don’t expect non-black people to know what it feels like in the skin I’m in. But it’s a big part of me and I’m 100% unapologetic. I embrace all races but I am so proud of who I am right now. Of what our people are doing to stand for our rights, our equality, and the future of our children. This is not new anger or new pain that’s spilling out, but it’s so raw and pure that it cannot and will not be ignored.

Our chocolate is sweet and beautiful and has a story to tell. And it’s deserving of so much more.

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