How do you feel?  How do experience your self, your life and that of others?  How do you know that it is real and exact and true?

And how can you feel when race gets in between us and our skin?  Talk about getting under our skin.  Race separates us from our bodies and picks at our skin.

Cases of unusual force put pressure on our skin.  Incidents of police brutality, without a stitch of evidence against a suspected body, tears holes in our skin.  If this is the fabric of our humanity, where is the seamstress?  Call for the tailor.

Because we need to make some adjustments.  We need to be fitted again for our humanity and our relationships.  But, please don’t continue to stretch our skin in attempts to make it fit a racial body.  It is a uncomfortable fit.

In fact, race has pressured and picked at our skin for so long that race has numbed us.  Now, we feel what others feel about us.  We have yet to dwell in our own bodies, to move into our own house, to live in our flesh; the segregation sign still hanging on our eyes and minds.

We are living in and through the eyes of others and they are eyes that blink, tear up and dry up, that need to be rubbed and closed.  These eyes squeeze us tight and shut us out. Instead, we will need to see ourselves with our own eyes.

When we put race down, we may have to feel around for awhile.  But, at least, we will find ourselves.