Dear Black Folks,
My people! I love you with all of my heart.
We’ve been through the most. Slavery. Reconstruction. Jim Crow. Post-racial America. We’ve bonded together to rise above it all. Some of us even had the chance to see a black President. We’ve experienced the joy of obtaining highest office in the land all while being told we are nothing. We’ve jumped over hurdle after hurdle, and we’ll continue to run this race together.
We are overcomers.
However, I’m saddened at this time. I’m frustrated, confused, and disgusted. Not with all of us, but the ones who refused to vote.
Did you really sit at home? Did you really think our voice didn’t matter? I know how things have been for us historically, but that doesn’t stop us from fighting. What made you shell up? What makes you think the lives lost in Selma, AL aren’t important? But black lives matter, right? What makes you think the men and women brutally beaten and killed for your right did it in vain? And you’re proud of it?
You should be ashamed.
If you didn’t vote, then get out of the streets protesting. Stop with the “I’m angry!!” nonsense. Don’t feel dejected or hurt. None of that. In short, shut up. You didn’t move when you had the chance. You didn’t speak when the opportunity was given. So, kick rocks with the fake social media activism. Log off of Facebook and Twitter with the long rants about “AmeriKKKa”. Chill with that nonsense. You need to look yourself in the mirror and see the example you’re setting for our children.
I say this in love.
Sit down. Be quiet. Listen.
You’re probably mad now. Some are calling me a Tom, coon, and a negropean. I don’t care. You disrespected those that came before us.
Do better.
Sincerely,
Your Brother
A Fresh Voice 
Jarrod I’m right there with you! I tried to convince so many of our fellow brothers and sisters to vote, and it was frustrating to know they did not come out! My mother is a black female CEO, but when she tells me stories of how she had to pick tobacco when she was a child until there were stains on her hands and how my grandmother had to pick cotton. It hurt my heart to know they felt comfortable staying at home when our ancestors went through so much, so we could vote.
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