All struggles begin the same way.

We start by fighting for OUR people, or what we define as our people; usually those within our race.

It is often because we see the struggles that our people go through on a daily basis because our struggle is all we know. We then interpret that struggle as the world being against us. As we begin to realize that our people are in trouble, we begin to struggle for justice.

In that journey for justice for our people, we meet other people, who, like us, are fighting for their people.

We see the frustration in people’s faces and we think about it in the back of our heads and recognize that people are fighting for a reason but fail to make the connection that will link us together. At first, all we really care about is ourselves and our people. Within time, we begin to understand that we are not the only ones fighting for justice.

We learn that people of all races, classes, and ideas are fighting for justice all over the world.

What is it that keeps us separated even when we are residing neighbors?

What is it that keeps us from realizing that we are all in the same struggle? It is natural to be nationalist; to want to fight for your people.

We are all each other’s people; and this is when and where it becomes okay to say my people, because that is when we recognize our connection to one other.

Discovering that we are one people is a struggle within a struggle.

Our ideology evolves and we reach a point in our struggle that allows us to see that your struggle is also my struggle. All of this leads to us understanding that the women killed in Juarez for more than a decade are our people.

That murdered union organizers in Colombia are our people.

That victims of the Sudan genocide are our people.

That Jean Dominique and those who Radio Haiti reached are our people.

That the people of Oaxaca are our people.

That the people of Palestine are our people.

That workers of the LAX hotels are our people. Our forgotten connection to each other is rediscovered.

When we are children, we see no color (unless we are taught otherwise), which is why even whites were friends with slaves in America.

Their innocence allowed them to be one people.

All of this is stripped away from us by our society through the corruption of our minds as we begin to mature.

I’ve come to realize that our struggles are a life-long journey to regain what we have lost even through the journey itself; respect for everyone and integrity.