And so, when one of us spoke up, it was never just for her. It was for us. If anything, she was the willing sacrifice. Another log on the pyre stoked by us, our stories, our voices. And we would fan the flames. Spread the truth. Join the chorus. Burn it to the ground. Raze the earth, if we had to. Start over on level ground. Our legacy would be our words. Shouted out loud. For all to hear. We were done petitioning to be believed. We were finished requesting the benefit of the doubt. We weren’t asking for permission. The floor was ours. Listen.
