When I understood why people that looked like me were chanting ‘Black Lives Matter’

I knew I was no longer a child 

The way my heart would drop when a new hashtag was attached to a new black body 

Or the silent tears I would shed watching the mothers of Mike Brown, Tamir Rice or Trayvon Martin speak at a rally

I knew I had transitioned from childhood when I realized the weight one flag carried 

The broad ‘X’ on top of a solid red stain that loudly screamed hatred without using words 

When I discovered that people who proudly fly those flags are still stuck in the mindset that slavery was okay and black people are not equal

It was clear to me that I was no longer a child when Donald Trump became president 

When people I had known my entire childhood openly accepted a man who ran his campaign on hate 

People who would put their hands over their hearts and sing the lyrics ‘Land of the Free’ but agreed with the president that immigrants are not welcomed here

I understood I was past adolescence when I would have to go to school everyday and argue on behalf of my melanin covered brothers and sisters 

When the world revealed its true ugly self and friends I once trusted took off their masks

I knew I was no longer a child when I realized 

That being black instantly put a target on my back 

That being black was to be treated as a wild animal that the oppressor wanted to keep caged or put down to keep silent