Like the majority of black women in America, I waited on the most recent presidential election results with bated breath, hoping against hope that this country was progressive enough to choose a woman of color to lead it. Exhausted by nearly a decade of divisive,  hate-filled political rhetoric, I desperately wanted to turn the page on this disheartening chapter and finally feel like we were moving forward. 

Today was a long but good day. I had the honor of giving testimony before the Maryland Senate Committee on Education, Energy, and Environment on MD SB469 – the Harriet Tubman Community Investment Act (Maryland Reparations Study for Black Descendants of Enslaved Individuals). We were required to submit our testimony in advance, and I thought I was being slick by submitting mine as “written testimony” instead of “oral and written testimony'“; My plan was to have my testimony on the record and then sit back and watch the activities unfold.

Reparations and Peacebuilding: two words that seem unrelated. Many think Reparations only relates to things that happened “back then.” And that peacebuilding only relates to things happening “over there.” But both are a significant part of building healthy and just societies. And if we bring them together, we can see they are deeply interrelated. Peacebuilding offers a few frames to help us further explore the work of Reparations.

I am a nonbinary trans man living in Washington, D.C. This August, I decided to change my legal name and gender marker to match the name and gender I live as. While I’d like to say that this is a warm-hearted end to a journey of self-discovery, the truth is a bit more pragmatic. Historically, I hadn’t felt the need to update my legal documents because I felt secure and comfortable using my chosen name and gender identity without matching legal identification. Ultimately, the main reason I decided to change my legal documents is because I want to keep myself safe.

I know what it is to feel
Your world turned on its axis
Up feels down
Words come at you garbled,
As if fighting their way through deep dark waters
Sound is muted
Light is dimmed
Your heart is numb
Your skin is on fire

When I heard the news, I was at the airport in Salt Lake City, on my way to a retreat in Tulsa for 50 regional reparations leaders. On that day, June 12, 2024, the Oklahoma Supreme Court dismissed a reparations lawsuit by the last two survivors of the 1921 Tulsa race massacre, Viola Ford Fletcher, 109, and Lessie Benningfield Randle, 108. When I arrived in Tulsa, it was an impressive 100 degrees just an hour before midnight.