#writeractivist

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“Know this If you’re lucky, your path is long If you’re reading this, count it as a blessing to be alive Others weren’t as lucky But you’re here Along your path, along your road or journey There may or will be some bumps in the road, some unexpected sharp turns, and a hill where the climb is without end Then, there’s the other paths that will cross yours Telling you that their way is the right way And, it’s okay listen, to heed their advice But, know this Your path, is yours and yours alone, and ultimately it is up to you to shape it as you see fit. And, there is no wrong way It’s just a path that’s a little more adventurous.” —AuBree Binta

“My feet normally walk to their own beat. Just getting me from destination to destination. Sometimes it’s a slow luxurious pace because I have nowhere to be. Most times it’s a brisk patter because I’m usually running a little behind. They rarely have the energy to jog, And when I want a little attention, they tend to strut. But when I want to heard, they stomp. And today, I want to heard. So if you hear the rumblings of a stampede, Or feel the earth tremble beneath your feet, Don’t be scared. Instead, stand taller, Strengthen your resolve, Keep your focus, And prepare your feet to stomp. Together, they will hear it coming.” —AuBree Binta

I know what it’s like to lose a friend to gun violence. It’s called being black in America. But, I am infinitely proud of these young adults who are standing up to those other people won’t. #thechildrenarethefuture

“There was a time when I didn’t know who I was. That I didn’t know that I was black. Everyone else I knew looked just like me. Eventually, I knew. They taught me I was. And I believed hisstory, his narrative about my black. But then I grew up. I learned who I am. And I know my history, my narrative. At times my past may be vague and obscure, But I’ll keep looking, and I’ll keep searching. I’ll do every thing in my power to dismantle hisstory, his narrative. Because my black is beautiful, It is this gift. It is this power that grants me supernatural strength.” —AuBree Binta ————————————————

“Her voice is like no other. It reverberates my soul, Speaking to a pain, a sorrow, a bitter that I didn’t know I possessed. Her melodic and rhythmic whispers grind against my core about a past I cannot know. A past neither of us knows, but is littered with strange fruit hanging. Her innate ability is almost magical. Until you remember the why. That she, like me, and our brethren in color, Can still feel the echoes of misery from the chains of the past.” —AuBree Binta ————————————————

Do you see me? I mean really see me. That I too exist. That I too deserve respect. That I too have a voice. Do you see me? I mean really see me. And know, that the appendage between your legs does not make you superior. That the appendage between your legs does not grant you full access to the gold between mine. That the lack of appendage between my legs deserves more than respect but reverence. Do you see it? I mean really see it. That the millenniums of patriarchal driven society is coming to an end. That if you continue to refuse me a seat at the table, I will dismantle it and create my own. That silence is no longer an option and there will be consequences for the not listening and collaborating. Do you feel it? I mean really feel it. If you don’t now, you will.” —AuBree Binta

“He is one of the brave few. Whether by circumstance or aspiration, he chose. He risks his life. Stares down the barrel of a gun. Weaves through mines of reality. Fighting for his country, Hopefully for justice and righteousness. He does as he is told. Because country comes first. No matter the consequences or reason. But who puts him first. Who will fight for him and her, when they come home? I will. Will you?” —AuBreeBinta There should be no such thing as a homeless vet.