unsent, I know it was a long journey to get here. I acknowledge the gift I was given. The gift to walk down the street with peace. The gift to see people with my skin, my eyes, my language, open their doors for business or catch a cab in the middle of the night. The gift to meet a man at a work conference and end up marrying him in front of our loved ones. My grandmother being herself openly, being black and powerful openly, having a soft and solid grip, did a lot to help that. She never let her longing for a different life stop her from creating for the future. It’s strength, but now that I know more, it’s also sadness. I’m on a town council and they’re thinking of tearing down some resident buildings for more technology focused businesses to set up shop. And I don’t think they’re fully thinking about the displacement that could cause and no one but me seems to want to find a solution first. It’s not perfect, but there’s two voices that get me through. I have my own, which has space to thrive here. And I have my great grandmother’s voice saying “See it through. You don’t know what you might end up with but you have to try.” Sometimes, more often lately, I feel down when I think about Ruth, I think about the different kinds of love we get to experience in our lives. She had love for her people as she helped this country, the home I live in and the way we’re allowed to live and dream. She had love for her family as she adopted my grandfather, and forged a legacy for us to be supported by and live through.