The time has come for those of this Native land and those across the four corners of the earth for over four hundred years; and all nations to release the chains of captivity.

The United States of America the land of the free or captive? I was born elder of four siblings in Newark, New Jersey during the civil rights era and black power movement of the twentieth century. There was peace and happiness in our neighborhoods growing up in a diverse urban community on the outskirts of Newark; a place called Irvington. Prior to the demolition of the Brick City projects, Newark was the beginning of years here on this Native soil now called USA. In the mid 70's, my identity and strength began to grow. I would plant seeds and create things from my imagination, learning life in the humble beginnings I was not aware of universal laws as I continued my education in Irvington in the early 80's, yet I stayed true to myself to know who truly was of value. The latter years of the 80's, small gangs emerged in my neighborhood. The generation of teenagers five to seven years older spoiled the fun of having a carefree neighborhood to play football, ride bikes in the streets, or even hanging out in the park with my friends Corey, Sir, and Marcus. Unnecessary roughness and dishonesty came into picture where I learned not to trust everyone.

There was an Italian family across the street who had a son name Lenny, who was a grade higher than me. Lenny had two or three older sisters and his father was a businessman who worked for himself. Lenny was a cool guy, we played football and teased each other. Next door to me was Hakeem, his sister Safiya, and mother. Hakeem was around my brother's age 3 years younger. Hakeem liked to play tricks and ran very fast. I knew nothing about life back then to recognize signs of departure and to say farewell friends.

Unspoken words left a glimpse of an untold memory of whether I would see them again. In 1989, my parents abruptly left our neighborhood without the time to say farewell to those connections I wondered about as I relocated south. I was offered a cold turkey sandwich to stay in New Jersey with my Father or go come to come to the south with your mother till house was sold. So much was at stake, knowing the nature of love I chose to leave what was left behind I never received.

This moment in life became a missed opportunity to say good bye to the friends I treasured dearly. Looking back now over the course that year, I can relate to the decisions my parents made when faced with challenges of life to protect family. The rush of the move blinded my parents from knowing my heart and the impact of communication bottled up from lost connections treasured dearly. I wondered from time to time about the great memories I had in New Jersey as I often day dreamed in class feeling estranged in a new environment that seemed unreal. This part of my life was not regarded in the importance to consider the feelings I had in the matter but was overlooked in the move. Therefore I lacked the emotional intelligence to consider what was important to someone else other than myself.

Later in life I realized that to have a happy family, there has to be healthy inner personal relationship that consists of friends and relatives. Compared to most children, I have had a good childhood. No matter the struggles faced my parents they did what could to keep the family together.

However, there were times of tension between myself and my mother when I was not allowed to express myself fully as she talked over me with her last words. A matter I found to be very uncomfortable as I zoned out to hear her when I felt the outcome would lower my self-esteem.

I often kept my thoughts private not to be judged or unheard unfavorably in times of distress. I chose to avoid the unfavorable situations by taking the path of least resistance. As a youth, I zoned out any verbal communication that felt oppressive emotionally. This became my handicap to hear the concerns of a woman in her emotions to address the matter. How could I justify myself to her or any emotional woman for that matter? I was not taught by my father to learn the patience of dealing with a woman. "Yet he taught me respect and greeting, not to shake hands with every man, be few in words with strangers and watch to learn them. He taught me to live by the faith of my work to wait patiently for what it is I want. " Whatever event of the past my mother judged me, I learned to do the same only to realize that my heart could never be pure as long as I am the cause of hurt to others. "She taught me a great deal of values that outweighed learned flaws to be resourceful, one must find resources to aid the work of progress. She instilled a great work ethic being thorough and clean, rising early and resting properly. Researching matters to investigate the truth, quick with words for judgment, and speaking against injustice for what's right in addition to taking action promptly to accomplish goals. She has taught me to create family values to bring about unity and help those whoever needed. I honor my father and mother all the days of my life and greatly appreciate them."

Ridicule can foster a resentment that breaks down esteem. It's funny how life repeats itself; but whatever was not corrected as a child will occur later in marriage. Therefore, I abandoned the concept of condemning one's past to validate my argument to realize that love can never come this way. True love is the work of forgiveness which has no accusations or remembrance of the past to make someone subject to argument.

Consequently, I have gained a low tolerance to deal with perpetual emotional situations that hold the past against one or does not want change to acknowledge the wrong or ignorant circumstance. Can this be true love for anyone to talk over another to justify feelings and not consider the other? Again, I want no parts of a perpetual emotional situation and would exit the situation to have nothing to do with it. I am in opposition to stagnant behavior and will do whatever is right to be fruitful so that life multiplies abundantly.

In 1989, the golden age of hip hop's music was the sanity and happiness for adapting to a rural town of hot, humid, and muggy heat that could make the day full of sleep in air condition or miserable to walk in the sweat of exhaust. I remained indoors mostly to tinker with computers and video games rather than complain in boredom. There was one school system for each grade range of students attending elementary, middle, and high school in Hawkinsville, GA.

In 1989, the last grade of Middle school awaited my arrival, the seventh grade. I was far more advanced than that of my peers in education and as a result of not being challenged, no serious effort to excel was made till the end of high school. As a new student, I was tested by my fellows to see what strength, mindset, and ability of skill I possessed for association. However, being...