Terreece M. Clarke discusses the harsh realities of raising her family in 2020.

I sat staring at the blinking cursor on a random form ... waiting for me to enter data for the day.

Instead I wrote, “I need a mental health break.”

I closed my laptop, went to the couch and just sat there. It was four days after George Floyd was killed at the hands of police. And I was fed up with trying to make myself work as expected.

How is your family doing right now?

Depending on the day, I loathe this question. We are in the middle of a pandemic where the Black community continues to be hit hard. It’s not a question of if you know someone who has died of COVID-19, it’s more like who died this week.

Each day I learn of someone attempting to weaponize law enforcement against Black Americans doing the most mundane of life’s activities. Every week I brace for another video of brutality.

How are we doing? Answering demands I splay open my chest and bleed out Black pain for consumption.

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