Being black in the modern age is having your history newly defined for you. In relating to others, your starting point is already defined in their minds. You started low and rose high, but I'm not so sure. Maybe I've fallen. Maybe I'm not so impressive. Maybe if you take my true history to account, I'm a shell of what I once was.
When I’m in conversation I’m in two conversations: A conversation with the person in front of me, and a conversation with myself. My focus drifts to the conversation that is more interesting. More often than not it is the conversation I am having with myself.
The good or evil which plagues humanity, the consistency and inconsistency of our collective values, all can be found within yourself. You, a portal to the rest of human kind.