Every time I begin to put my thoughts down I think about history and what it took for me to be here. The sacrifices of those that came before me. The words, actions, and sacrifices of my inspirations keep the flow in my pen when I write down my thoughts. When “writer’s block” tries to creep into my pen I think of the blood that was spilled for a better future. Every time I feel like I’ve written all I can and begin to give up on my passion I think of those names. Medgar, Malcolm, Martin, Patrice, James Earl, Jimmie Lee, George Winston, Emmett Till, George Stinney. The sacrifices and strength of Afeni, Assata, Angela, Coretta, Betty. The blood of their sacrifices are inked in my pen everytime I write.