Script

(begins :30)

When I was a boy, they treated me like a man. When I grew up, they treated me like a boy. When I speak up or ask for more, I'm told to be quiet and appreciate what I have. My music is deemed offensive and my culture is appropriated. I’m seen as a threat, regardless of my intentions, actions, or thoughts. I’m a target, an entertainer, a workhorse. I’m underestimated yet overconfident.

When I'm tired of the daily messages that remind me of how rough it is, I look at myself. I remind myself of my worth and know that my value defies stereotypes. I am handsome, I am educated, and I spread joy. I think of the loving hands that raised me and taught me everything I know. I think of the barbershops that provided me with safety, community, and great memories. I think of the lessons my father taught me. I fall in love with myself, my skin, my features, and my soul. The world may be confused, but I know who I am. 

Bevel - Black men in their best light.