Coming Home

by Brittney Griner

Sometimes loving a person means telling them everything. Other times it means leaving them with hope.

Blackness doesn’t make you less, but it does frame your life. When you walk into a room, so does race. Frankly, it shows up before you do. It colors every conversation, shapes how you’re viewed, determines whether you’re even heard. From the day you get here, Blackness hangs over everything,

When you’re Black, your behavior is never just about you. It’s about your entire community.

You can withstand just about any shame so long as your tribe stands with you.

My kneeling was a sign of just how much I love our country. My ancestors helped build this nation. My father spent his career defending it. I take pride in being American, especially after being imprisoned in a country where public dissent can get you killed. Here, freedom of speech is our right. Exercising that right makes me more of an American, not less. Sit. Stand. Kneel. Protest. The beauty of our homeland is that we have a choice.

What I have is a hope that we can be gentler with one another, that we can imagine how it feels not to fit.