Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by the ache in my heart that tells me to change the world that i just want to yell, tell the world everything I've seen, everything I've experienced, everything I think I know,
As if they could hear me, as if the words would reach their ears, and their brains would send them out until they could feel them radiate within every cell of their body.
But I learned very early that yelling doesn't solve anything.
So I wished that I could change the world through a whisper, wished I could tell the child pulling on my pant leg, calling me tutor, teacher, best friend
that her natural hair is beautiful, that anyone who dares to tell her that she's worthless isn't worth her time, and that the border around the ghetto isn't as thick as they want you to believe.
But I learned later on that staying quiet doesn't solve anything either.
So I figured out that maybe it wasn't a matter of volume. The world has shown us time and time again
that the line between knowledge of a problem and the solution to that problem is sometimes thicker than you might think, and that it takes more than sweet tongues to reach eardrums clouded by a lifetime of bitterness
