The first time I ever started to question racism and really think about it was when I was six years old. It was really late this one night in December when my grandmother and I had to pick up my mother up from work. As we were coming back home, which was in a predominantly white neighborhood, I remember these young boys who were driving right next to us the whole time. They were honking at us and yelling profane words out of the window and the one thing that I remembered the most was when they said to us, "Why don't you niggas go back to Africa?!" It scared me when that occurred, but ever since then I've become a stronger person.

"The first step to liberation is love and the final step to love is liberation"