The fire burns from Emmett Louis Till to Philando Castile. The pain even I feel is real. Unfortunately 1985 wasn't year enough to stop the blood of my ancestors over spill, so 30 years later, I run! But not from the dogs, crossing the white folk property, or drinking from the fountain labeled whites only. I run for my unborn's possibility. I run for the youth I teach. I run for my niece who I know I've already reached. I'm humbled by modern day kings like Mysonne Linen who march making it clear NO JUSTICE NO PEACE NO RACIST POLICE, is not just part of a speech. I run to cut the chains, your permission doesn't need to be given. I run to rid myself of misguided traditions. No more sitting around the table under the pretenses thanks were given. No more leaving cookies and milk for ol' st. Nick. Seven days of the exchange of priceless gifts is what I'm wit. I ran right into my consciousness with every experience leaving me a tighter grip.