“Don’t mind no time spent to save me, just trying to be good to the people who raised me.” -Gregory and the Hawk
I was raised by women who shook fists and had militant words with brick walls for the sake of saying that they once did (of these battles, they always claim to have won).
I was raised by men who worked themselves to broken bones, minds, and hearts for their families full of children who they’ll never call accidents.
I was raised by parents who sacrificed and bled from their funds and hearts into their children without regret and always without looking back.
I was raised by grandparents who instilled in me that knowledge is priceless and deep within the classics, but that wisdom is powerful and only found as you become a classic.
I was raised by aunts who warned against their mistakes and led me to, then praised me for, all the right moves that I ever made.
I was raised by uncles who, through their own insanity, reminded me to never hold my imagination and hope to our own world, but also not to be too trusting of those who take advantage.
I was raised by promises that went unfulfilled and taught me to never let yourself depend on others if you can’t make it happen yourself.
I was raised by passion that came to me in the words and meanings buried below the surface in the books that filled my room and the blood on paintbrushes of great artists whose recreations hung on my walls.
I was raised to never sacrifice passion on the altar of practicality and to never let anyone belittle your creativity and ideas because one day those same dreams can take you places.
I was raised to raise others with the same things I believe to be right, but also raise others to know never to look down on the beliefs of others.
I was raised to raise myself – to raise my hopes, my dreams, my goals, and my standards.