In the words of Nelson Mandela, “To be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”
Think back to your high school history classes for a moment. How many weeks were spent reading about and discussing the first century of American history. And how much of that time was dedicated to telling the truths about slavery and racial injustice that weren’t politically abolished until 1886, more than a 100 years after July 4th, 1776. Or was it? Even after the Emancipation Proclamation, freed slaves were enslaved again under the guise of coal mining jobs as one example. Have you ever heard the name Green Cottonham? Or Jonathan Davis? Or any of the other unnamed children of slaves who were arrested and forced to live in a repackaged version of slavery.
Did you know there’s a museum in Alabama that memorializes the 4000 plus lynching victims in America? But it only opened two years ago in 2018 after years of research largely led by Brian Stevenson and his Equal Justice Initiative. What if current and future generations were required to take a field trip to view this perspective of American History and invited to walk through the painful aisles of truth that scar our collective past? Like kids in South Africa tour the Aparthied Museum or children in Germany visit the Holocaust Museum. 
These are just a few of the things I’ve been thinking about since we return from marching alongside thousands of protesters in downtown New York City two days ago with the hubby and our four girls. The need to understand how we got here (history) should directly influence what we leave behind (legacy). As parents, we strive to raise kids who lead lives of grace and truth, encouraging them to actively pursue social justice in their schools and clubs, and to stand up and be respectfully disruptive for what is right rather than be silent and comfortably complacent. So we drive into the city, join up with the gathering of New Yorkers of every race, march, kneel, and chant slogans like, “Hands up. Don’t shoot,” and “No justice. No Peace,” along with the names George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. I am brought to fresh tears for those we protest alongside with who scream with worn voices of the loss and injustices that stamp their daily lives. Especially for the African-American boys and men in the crowd with their hands raised who continue to face an actual threat when they repeat, “Hands up. Don’t shoot.” And for the mostly safe world we will return to as a family while the cause of racial justice feels at times impossible to undo in our lifetime.
The history of racism dug graves so deep, the questions of representation, reconciliation, and reparations feel insurmountable when racially violent acts like that of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd essentially kick the black population back down into those graves. How can the voices of the thousands of protesters change the hearts of hundreds of thousands that might never agree to lay down their privilege. The taxing red tape of counter-arguments redirecting the spotlight off the racist acts in the past months to the questions of racism or the looters or black on black violence compose a smokescreen so thick, when and if the dust ever settles, the age old questions remain. Who tells our history? How can we know the whole truth? Shouldn’t the truth change us? And if we say we stand for love, justice, peace, and equality, how do we as individuals live according to those ideals in a world whose infrastructure was built on the polar opposites?
I don’t have answers to these layered questions, but I do understand one thing: history is not the same as legacy. We can’t choose our history at this point in time, but we still have a say in our legacy and the world we leave behind for future generations. The work ahead is not easy, but anything worth fighting for is an uphill battle, and if we walk this journey of love and justice together, united in our purpose and vision for the world Dr. King dreamed for us, I can’t say for sure we’ll reach the promised land in our lifetimes, but we have the moral responsibility to get a little closer, wouldn’t you say? We don’t have to agree on every detail and think homogeneously to make progress. It actually doesn’t make sense for everyone to take the exact same course of action, because each of us has access to different resources and spheres of influence. The resources and opportunities are countless and being posted all over the internet for the taking. But we should agree on one thing: the dignity and value of a human life. This could make all the difference. History. Legacy. What story will they tell about you when your life is over?
Freedom Walk 
P.S. I wanted to invite you to join Cycling for Change on June 20, 2020 for a virtual Walk for Freedom. Registration is Free. Donations will go toward the restoration of survivors of human trafficking. It’s a small way to make a big impact against one injustice that overwhelmingly impacts underrepresented populations. Thanks for considering. And thank you again for all the past support and to all who have been a part of our Cycling for Change Family from the beginning to offer hope. Because hope. Changes everything.
