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My Son's Life Matters

After the events of the past week (#AltonSterling #PhilandoCastille #Dallas #Atlanta) my heart is heavy.  Not to say that I haven't felt this before, but this time it was different. Perhaps because not only do I have brothers, cousins, friends, and a BF to consider when the topic of Black male lives are at hand; I have a son.  Today my son is 12 days young. He is the perfect 7 pounds 15 oz. He smiles in his sleep and is comforted at the sound my voice.

I. Have. A. Son.
His life matters to me. To his father. To his family.
I believe that he will be a good citizen and serve his community. I also know that because of the color of his skin there is a chance he will be judged. This is not okay. Of all the things I've done in my life, he is my greatest accomplishment. I am a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, a Black woman, but most importantly now, I am a mother.

The past few days I have spent looking at my son and crying. I prayed over his life before he entered this cruel world, and I will continue to do so.

I've read and seen some things that have made me sad, I've read and seen some things that I totally agree with and others that I vehemently disagree with. I'm in a state of disbelief. That being said, I can't ignore that there is a problem.

I believe in supporting causes you are passionate about in a non violent way. I don't think every police officer is bad. I also don't think every person who is not Black is racist.

Hatred is taught. I aim to teach my son love.

I'm not sure how to fix the problem, but I do know that it will take all of us to do it.

Spread love. Stop the violence.  #MySonsLifeMatters

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