We Have Survived Before

For every scar that became a seed

We have survived before.
Before the ink dried
on broken promises.
Before the ballot was trusted
to include our names.
Before the soil remembered
our sweat
as sacred.

We have survived
in fields where freedom was a whisper,
in kitchens where justice simmered slow,
in sanctuaries
where even the stained glass
watched us from a distance.

We have known storms—
not of weather,
but of men and systems.
Storms that rewrote laws
to lock us out.
Storms that called us less
and hoped we’d believe it.
But we didn’t.

Because we had songs.
Because we had hands
that built
when nothing was handed.
Because we had faith
that was never bought,
never borrowed—
but burned bright
in the belly
of grandmothers
who prayed with their whole bodies.

We have survived
the silence of the overlooked
and the noise of those
who feared our power.
We’ve survived schools
that taught us half-truths,
and streets
that tried to swallow our sons.
We’ve survived churches
that welcomed our tithe
but not our truth.

And yet—
we loved.
We kept on loving.
We raised children
with hope in their eyes
and courage in their fists.
We planted gardens
in concrete.
We named each other beloved
before the world did.

So don’t ask us
if we’ll make it.
We already have.
We have survived before—
and survival is not the ceiling.
It is the ground
from which we rise.

We are not here
because we were lucky.
We are here
because we are light-bearers.
Because we are dream-carriers.
Because the Spirit
put something in us
that systems could not crush.

And yes,
the fight is not finished.
Yes, the road still rises
against our feet.
But our feet remember
how to walk,
how to march,
how to dance
even when the music is mourning.

We have survived before.
And now,
we build.
We speak.
We vote.
We teach.
We sow.
We serve.
We rise—
not because it’s easy,
but because it is ours to do.

And when they ask
how we endured—
tell them:

We did not just survive.
We transformed.
We turned sorrow into strategy,
memory into movement,
and pain into possibility.

Because we have survived before.
And we will do more than survive again.
We will lead.
We will lift.
We will live free—
and make sure others can too.

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