I am tired.

I am emotionally tired.

I am physically tired.

I am mentally tired.

I am 39, and this year has been a year of reflection. On January 2, 2021, my dad died suddenly from a heart attack. He was a gardener for decades and grew his own food. He was healthy. He hadn’t retired. He was 71. 

Even though he owned all of his vehicles, owned his home and no longer had a mortgage, and had no debt, he kept working. Once my dad turned 65, I asked, “Dad, when will you retire?” He would smile and tell me his job was easy and he didn’t mind working. My dad had worked since he was ten. He spent seven decades working. He spent seven decades taking care of everyone else and fighting for justice. 

As a kid, I remember when we suddenly had to vacate an apartment we were renting because the landlord refused to renew the lease. My dad never paid late. In fact, he always paid early. However, a tree was damaged, and my dad kept asking for it to be cut down. The landlord wouldn’t cut it down. The tree fell and totaled a car my dad owned. He represented himself in court, sued the landlord, and won the case … and the landlord responded in the only way he had left. He wouldn’t let us renew the lease.

Not only did he win a case, I remember him being in the union and running for office in the union. He also reported his employer for violations that they had to fix because he reported them, and he kept his job despite calling out his employer. Even when he died, he was helping younger employees fight injustice. 

If 71 indicates how long I might have left to live, I must consider how I will spend my time. I’m turning 40 this year. If 71 is my stopping point, I have already passed the halfway point.

Months before my dad died, he told me he would go to Africa, and he would finally sit in the stadium and see the Indianapolis Colts play football. Those dreams were unfilled. His life was consumed by prioritizing so many issues over his own dreams. I don’t want that for myself.

Additionally, I have many Black mentors who are education advocates and activists who are just like my dad. They are fighting and not prioritizing their needs. Earlier this year, I was on a Zoom call when a person, who I consider a friend and mentor, called into the virtual meeting from a hospital bed right before major surgery. I have even seen White allies do the same. A few years ago, a person I consider a friend joined a Zoom meeting from a rehabilitation facility after having life-altering surgery.

Every single time there is an issue, the same people run out to fight, but at what cost?

We don’t have to be at every fight. We don’t have to constantly put ourselves and our needs in the background during the fight for justice. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t do it anymore.

I especially can’t do it when I’m disgusted.

On April 12, 2023, there was a public meeting about Valor Academy. This school, should it open, would be a classical school. After a failed attempt to open in an Indy suburb, the school is trying to worm its way into the west side of Indianapolis, near Carmel, where their attempts failed. What is of significant concern is the school’s association with the conservative institution, Hillsdale College. 

Several people I know asked me to attend. I said no repeatedly. When asked why I said, “I’m busy.” I was also scheduled to be at the Washington Township Community Coalition meeting at the same time, so it wasn’t a lie. Some people who planned to attend that meeting skipped it and went to the Valor Academy meeting instead. Even if I didn’t have the WT meeting, I still wouldn’t have gone.

People need to be honest. The main reason many people went and protested was that they have a hatred of charter schools. Even if this school had a noble mission, even if its leaders could prove they could get results, even if there were enough kids available to fill the school, many protesters would have shown up because they don’t like charter schools and want them to go away.

Here’s the reality. Charter schools aren’t going away. I support the existence of charter schools, but we don’t need any more charter schools in Indianapolis. There are not enough kids.

We also need the same kind of accountability for every school, regardless of school type. That’s the fight worth fighting for.

That’s not the only fight. Let’s say charter schools disappeared, and traditional public schools got all of this funding back. Would traditional public schools improve? Those charter school haters couldn’t tell you because they don’t know. They aren’t putting that same energy into quality teaching and school administrator development. They aren’t investigating if research-based strategies are being used to teach. If charter schools when away, they would go back to their PTO duties and be content.

The easy pat-yourself-on-the-back task is to protest, post the obligatory pictures of a job well done, and forget about the rest.

The rest is the stuff that Black activists and advocates can’t forget about. It’s the stuff that keeps them up at night. It’s the stuff that makes them call into a virtual meeting before being wheeled away into major surgery. The rest is the stuff that shortens life spans. It is the stuff that keeps us from our families and keeps us putting everyone, everything, and every cause before ourselves.

I can’t do it anymore.

I can’t, and I won’t.

What I will do is continue mentoring young Black educators. 

What I will do is continue serving schools through my education consulting business Blazing Brilliance and help schools and organizations achieve their goals.

What I will do is choose my protesting wisely.

The clock is ticking.

If I’m past the halfway point…

If I died tomorrow, I would be sad if the last thing posted online about me was that I protested a school and had nothing else to show my impact in education and this world.

Activists and advocates, it is okay to say no. It is okay to choose you. It is okay to rest. The fight will always be there. Jump in when you can. You don’t have to live in the ring.