Not Ashamed, But Who Will Listen and Act

It's 4am on a full moon weekend. I am not sure why I am awake, but I do recall having a dream that I initially struggled to understand before the depth of meaning struck me to my core. Possibly the core quake is what compelled me to no longer distract myself by attempting to count sheep. I am hesitant to write my dream here along with what I feel it means because I struggle to believe that anyone is truly listening and for those who do listen and care deeply, we lack the capacity and resources for substantial and sustainable change.

Sitting here typing with tears in my eyes as I reflect on the news, not just from the past few weeks but for years on so many seemingly unconnected issues, I feel lost. Similarly reflecting on my own story and dream, I feel like I am looking into rolling clouds, laced with lightning while residing in a house of cards. Adding to the drama of this "scene", my recent interactions with higher education and working diligently to not only improve life for myself, my family, and pretty much everyone around me (the call of leadership, equity, and public education) have me feeling like I am in "the sunken place". If you have not seen the movie "Get Out", you might not get that reference.

Perhaps this is the introduction to the book that I feel is buried deep inside me. The story of a boy, pardon me, the story of a Grady Baby, born in Summerhill and his journey through struggles with acceptance, the Atlanta Child Murders, navigating pathways in life, military service, working through school as a non-traditional, first generation college graduate (three time graduate), to become a face/fa?ade of an African-American man in education "leadership". Who am kidding? Who really wants to hear about that?