I will just be so honest. I wanted to write this blog immediately after black history month. It gave me the impression at the time, that it was so appropriate. There were some disagreements that surfaced in my life that made me take a second glance at my past. I know that for some, our culture and history makes us propel our desire to become better. It makes us want to break so many barriers that has hindered us for years. This topic that I am about to tread on will shine a different light on the black community. It is one of the things that growing up you just didn’t talk about. These words probably sound an alarm even until this day. “What goes on in this house stays in this house”. In some way so many of us has heard this. Before I go any further, this issue is exemplified in other backgrounds as well. I just felt very compelled to address this issue for my own culture. It wasn’t until having a conversation with a relative that impelled me to speak on it. When I was growing up many things were swept under the rug. The abuse, drugs, abandonment, alcoholism and adultery to name a few. I remember as I stated in one of my other blogs that I went to church, and nobody had a clue. My family members put on a smile. It is very hard to live in dysfunction and see exactly what you are living in. This kind of behavior seemed normal. I look back and I remember coming in from church excited to eat my grandmother’s Sunday dinner. Only to be greeted by the smell of burnt plastic. Wreaking through that old mobile we called home. Even at maybe twelve or thirteen. I knew it was crack cocaine. Imagine being that age and knowing exactly what crack cocaine was. Everyone who walked in that day received a whiff of it. They all were aware of what was taking place. To be so transparent with you. I can still hear my grandmother calling out my relative’s name. It was almost as if she was concerned, yet still enabling. As I had a conversation with my therapist I went on to tell her about how I thought that its origin did not began with the generation who raised me. A lot of these traits affected me in my adult life. Many are wondering what I mean by break my b(l)ack. There is so many things silently breaking us. There is this elephant in the room .We can’t heal what we can’t address. A statistic report showed that 166,392 African American children between the ages of 2 to 5 in 2017 were reported physically abused. In the U.S 10% of all children experience some form of child sexual abuse. Even in churches and schools across the country. According to the national survey on drug use. There is 51.9% of African American males from the age of 12 or older that drink alcohol. It is 14.2% that has been reported abusing drugs. The Health and Human Services Office reported that African Americans are 20% more likely to experience serious mental illness. Most like me want to know where did this all start. I ultimately believe these characteristics were birthed out of domination. Which is of man’s sinful nature. If we dig deep into history, it was dominance that brought slaves to this country. It was ascendancy that drove at once upon a time the light holder and gatekeeper (lucifer) to want to reign over our sovereign God. Who in turn tricked Eve to doing what was forbidden. The fall of man is what invited all these things in. I have good news for you. We as a black culture can change what history instilled in us. We can stand up because of Jesus Christ who shed his blood for us. Who has given us power in our speech and in our actions to change the trajectory of our own community as well as lives all over the world.