Originally posted on Facebook on Friday, February 27, 2026.

In Week 9 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks to God for my Black history.

I grew up in an all-Black neighborhood in Jackson, Mississippi that, at the time, was just a neighborhood to me.

I remember the sound of lawn mowers early on Saturday mornings.

I remember tree houses.

I remember the joyous squeals and laughs of kids playing in the street, and me rushing to finish my homework so I could join them.

I remember walking home from G.N. Smith Elementary School.

I remember the candy lady.

I remember my Dad working at DeSoto Furniture right down the street.
I remember him putting me in his lap as he drove a forklift (you didn't hear that, OSHA).

I remember staying at my neighbor's house when my mom was sick and my dad was at work.

I remember my first internship at a clinic owned by a Black doctor that, at the time, was just a doctor to me.

I remember summer camps at Jackson State University taught by Black professors that, at the time, were just instructors to me.

I remember going to Bailey Magnet High School where I was surrounded by bright, ambitious, Black kids that, at the time, were just other kids to me.

I remember the debate team.

I remember my best friend in high school scoring a perfect 36 on the ACT.

Growing up where Black people were together, hard-working, accomplished, and contributing to the vitality of our community, at the time, were just people living to me.

That was my norm.

The beauty and brilliance that were so ordinary to my Black experience indeed grew naturally from the seed of our common humanity. But the space and conditions for it to bloom were blood bought.

Looking back, I realize what was normal to me was anything but. My reality was a dream my ancestors fought for against those who would kill it.

It is a dream I too am committed to protect and a reality I'm determined to build, especially for those whom it is unjustly denied.

That's the legacy of my black history which I aim to pass on. It is a gift not only to Blacks but to us all. We are all richer and not poorer for it.

The legacy of my Black history is the enduring devotion to building places where flourishing is the norm for everyone in it.

I'm grateful.

In honor of James Donald, a man who taught Black kids that excellence is in us and that it was our responsibility to bring it out. He is being laid to rest today.

#52WoG #BlackHistory