I’m depressed. I have no energy. I’m tired. And I’m not even the one who needs to be worried--warning my kids of how police could target them. My kids don’t have targets on their backs. My sister, who grew up dancing on the hashed line between her white and black families, would have to have those conversations if she had children of her own. My heart breaks for this nation right now—I feel like the aftermath of this pandemic, where so many lives were lost—and disproportionately black ones more than white ones—it makes me just want to curl up under a weighted blanket and wish it all away---the pandemic to start and the hate, the injustice, the complete lack of confidence in leadership (leaderSHIT) and the whole mess of it all. I can’t breathe. But the thing is, I CAN BREATHE. I do it deeply every day and when I take those extra deep breaths, I think of my sister and the people she as is equally part of as she is of me and mine—the way their breath is not smooth like mine right no