JACKSON, Miss.—As I write today, I am looking for the words to offer a high school classmate who lost her 15-year-old, 10th-grade son to gun violence here in my hometown. I am digging for the words to offer his younger brother—a student at the middle school where I teach—his former classmates and teachers (my teammates) as a condolence, a comfort, a reassurance.
But y’all. Listen. I am coming up blank. So I turned to this piece to attempt to give voice to our need as a community, as a collective, as a city and a state, to encourage each of you to reflect and lean into our full-circle moments. It is in these times that we not only liberate ourselves from the negative experiences, but can help to change the circumstances that caused those experiences in the first place. Right now. As it’s happening.
Lived experiences define who we are in the present, how we respond to adversity—and they dictate who we will be. As I reflect on my life in Jackson, Miss., I can feel pure joy from memories of block parties in J.C. Park on simmering summer days. Oh! I can hear the roar of boxed Chevys and Impalas creeping around the park. I can taste the syrupy goodness from the Tigerblood-flavored snowball from the red snowball truck. I can feel the movements of the dance battles by little girls who aspire to be Ranerettes for Lanier High School when they grow up. I can hear Bailey Avenue traffic ebbing and flowing as a backdrop to our realities, seemingly oblivious to the memories being etched in each of our hearts.
‘What Do We Do Now?’
My lived experiences as a longtime Jacksonian has, at times, weighed me down. I have felt deep, tragic loss and failure, both personally and as a citizen of my beloved city. I’ve lost family members, and we’ve all lost neighborhood heroes and friends due to gun violence or over-incarceration of Black men. We watch our city’s crumbling and outdated infrastructure fail her most loyal and dedicated citizens. As a Jacksonian I grieve—and carry