This is not NOT an essay.

This is audio footage of an essay I wrote a few weeks back about #BLM.

There is video footage, but, you see, what had happened was, I was in the moment. I didn’t even know I hit record or video record or whatever. I put my phone in my pocket, because I was holding my son and I was in the moment.

We’re on our front porch.

At 0:00, you see the marchers. Between then and 0:08 what you see is me fumbling with the dang phone and somehow I put the dang thing in my pocket but before that you’ll notice my white fist in the air and then, if you look real close, you’ll see goosebumps on my arm, meaning the hair on my arm and body is standing straight up and I’m in my feelings and those goosebumps are as real as the march before us, as real as a movement of people everywhere, as real as a father loves his son, loves his daughter, loves his wife. This is reality.

This is real.

At 0:14 you see one leg–Ava’s left leg–because Mama’s got her in the BabyBjorn and it’s a little embarrassing because it’s past two in the afternoon and baby Ava is still in her PJs, but I’ve been in PJs pretty much all of COVID-19 and I wonder who in their right mind wouldn’t be in PJs like that under these circumstances and all.

The rest of it looks like fly’s eyes, but it sounds nothing like flies.

Between the phone going in the pocket and 1-minute something, you can hear my wife repeat, “Yes” and me giggling again and again, and giggling is my go-to when I don’t know what else to do, but I can ensure you in this moment, them goosebumps got me crying. And, I don’t cry often so, in this moment, as I don’t know what to do with the wetness of my tears, I giggle still. My son keeps asking, “why do the cars go beep beep like that,” and our daughter is chilling in the BabyBjorn and we prompt her to say, “hi,” because we’re in the moment and that’s all we got in that moment and my wife’s Yeses make me believe a change is going to come. This time. Listen to her Yeses and believe too.

At approximately 1:26, a girl in the march yells, “your children are beautiful.” Thank you. Yes. Yes. Thank you. That’s right. Yes. That’s right. Yes. Yes. Thank you.

All those Thank Yous for the youth. They about to take it all.

Fist up high, Khalil. Higher. Higher still. And, we march. March. March. And now that is my favorite month forever and ever.




At 4:44: “we’re doing this for your children.”


Thank you.



At 5:34, my wife says, “we should have kept our sign.”

We can make new signs. We can. Yes, we can. (I keep revisiting these speeches because it’s absolutely necessary.) And we must address painful questions, white folk. Especially white folk.

After that, it’s nap time and wrinkly and no more Fly’s eyes. It sounds like we’re in a tent. We’re all in a tent, aren’t we?

One way or another.

This video goes six minutes and forty seconds, but it will last my lifetime and forever and forever because it has to.

I’m a writer, and I haven’t been able to write much since, well, COVID-19 and then and then, but I choose to find life right now and that’s enough for me to try again.


Forever and always: #BlackLivesMatter

And wear a damn mask.



One response to “This is not NOT an essay.”

  1. Steven M Northcott

    Love it brother. I can picture you all in the moment.

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