Weeds in Concrete
Every spring and early summer my father had a war of the weeds. If you live in a house, you are probably yard and house proud. My dad was to his dying day..that meant no weeds could survive in this yard, or sidewalk, or in the cracks of concrete between the back gates and the garage. When he was still well enough to go outside everyday and do light housework, he had a torch to burn them..he had poison to spray them, but every spring them weeds came back and the war would start again.
The reason why I named my blog weeds in concrete is because, we black people are like weeds in concrete, no matter what you do to us we survive. I am sure this cliche has been used before and I am not trying to even be original but nothing else sums up the black experience in my opinion then this. We have been poisoned, burned, lynched, raped, plucked, and any other maniacal thing someone can think of, but we continue to thrive, and just like those weeds we pop back up, stronger then ever.