What does this day mean for me? Well, quite frankly, a lot. It means I, as a Black man racially, African American/ Mexican American ethnically, can stand on my own two feet, get a PhD, write books, travel the world, and have an interethnic marriage along with a multiethnic daughter. It means I can stand up for the marginalized and speak for the poor in the countenance of injustice. It means I can walk down the street holding my wife’s hand without the real fear of lynching’s and or severe public ridicule. It also means I can get an education and help my little girl get one too. It means I can bury my loved ones in a proper manner. It means I can go to court if my “civil rights” are violated. It means I am standing on the shoulders of all those who died before me and never made the headlines or nightly news; or ever had a Holiday named after them. It means I give homage and respect to the Civil Rights Generation and for what they did for my family and the subsequent generations, which follow. It means I pay respect to the struggle and fight that many people did to help me and others like me get to where we’re at today as a people of color. It also means I thank God for allowing some people to make the ultimate sacrifice of death for a people, a cause, and a purpose.
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