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In 2016, author Kisha Mitchell asked, “Brown girl, Brown girl, what do you see?”

In 2017, poet Lesle Honore asked, “Brown girl, Brown girl, what do you see? A world that sees my skin before it sees me.” (She also updated these words to reflect Kamala Harris’ Vice Presidential win).

Today, I feel compelled to say:

So, “Brown girl, Brown girl, what do you see?”

“Me?”

I see a Godless people fighting to protect their right to “honor God.”

I see an act of terrorism labeled as a people “fighting for their democracy.”

I see a divide which runs so deep in America, that we may never agree.

They chant,” America, home of the free!” I say, “naw, America home of the people who don’t see.”

Because in my America, all men are not created equal.

White supremacists are upheld as patriots, while supporters of #BlackLivesMatter are called thugs.

No weapons are raised against those who mob our government buildings, yet the national guard is released for those who peacefully demand justice.

In America, black skin is perceived as a threat, while a mob of white terrorists are honored and adored.

So, “Brown girl, brown girl, what do you see?”

I see a nation beyond repair looking at me.