I haven’t been able to cry lately. The last time I cried was at a protest. One of the Marshalls asked us to scream at the top of our lungs to release all of the emotions we’ve been suppressing. I screamed as loud as I could, and I felt everything inside of me release. I wept. I cried into my right hand and clutched my girlfriend’s hand to my chest with my left. I stopped screaming, but the crowd kept going. The sound was beautiful and carnal. The offbeat screams of strangers filled the streets and warmed my body. I felt safe and heard. My scream was their scream, and theirs was mine. I haven’t cried since. I’ve been considering that my sadness may be directly linked to my rage. When I screamed at the protest, I began to weep. But when I try to cry because I’m sad, it doesn’t work. I think that I have to be angry and own my rage before I can cry. I’ve been sad for as long as I can remember. I’ve cried and cried a million times over in my lifetime. I think that this is a sign of me growing up. I have to work out my emotions and own them instead of viewing them as weak. I can preach that I feel this way until my chest constricts, but words mean nothing without work. Emotions are more powerful when you recognize why you feel them and how they can guide you.

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Ronaye Anderson
My name is Ronaye Anderson, and I am a junior here at PPU. My major is in Political science and I have a minor in screenwriting. My dream is to write an award-winning screenplay for an adult animation. As a queer black woman, it is my dream to portray black people on television. Not as victims or stereotypes but as real people.