Project Drive Inc. Message to Our Brothers and Sisters

We stand here today as a testament not only to the pain we’ve endured but to the resilience we’ve built through that suffering. It’s impossible to speak of our present without confronting the brutal past that shaped it—a past marred by over-policing, lynchings, assaults, and relentless violence. This violence didn’t just target our freedom; it sought to strip us of our very humanity, attempting to break our spirits and the sacred bonds we share with one another.

We didn’t begin hating ourselves—no child is born with hate in their heart. That hate was planted by a system designed to make us question our worth and see our brothers and sisters as enemies. It’s a legacy where our brothers were hung from trees, our sisters silenced through violence, and our communities torn apart by those who were supposed to protect us.

Over-policing isn’t about safety; it’s about control. It’s about constantly reminding us that we’re seen as threats, just for existing in spaces never intended for us. Lynchings were about more than death; they were about instilling fear—sending the message that our lives are disposable. And the assaults on our bodies? They were calculated acts meant to strip away our agency, to break us down generation after generation.

But here’s the truth: they failed.

They failed to break us, failed to erase our humanity. In carrying these burdens, we’ve found strength. We’ve built families, communities, and a movement that refuses to be broken. Unity is our salvation. The systems of oppression rely on our division, but we are stronger together. Our ancestors didn’t survive by turning on one another; they stood side by side, even in the darkest times.

Yet we must also confront the pain within our own communities.

We cannot ignore the reality of crime and violence that takes place among us. Though we may not own the stores, the houses, or the land we live on, this is still our home. These streets carry the memories of those who came before us, and they are where our children play and grow. It’s time we understand that the fight is not just against the external systems that oppress us, but also against the internal struggles that tear us apart.

When we harm one another, we are continuing the very cycle of division that was forced upon us. It is not just the system that over-polices our neighborhoods—it’s the desperation, the hopelessness, and the disconnection that fuels crime within our communities. We must take responsibility for healing these wounds.

It starts with love. Love for ourselves, for our brothers and sisters, and for the places we call home. Even if we don’t own the buildings or the businesses, we live here. Our children grow up here. And part of our growth, part of our unity, is reclaiming our communities as places of peace, not pain.

Look around you. We are still here. We are still fighting. But we must remain vigilant, because the seeds of doubt, mistrust, and jealousy they planted are the most dangerous weapons we still face. We must reject the lies that tell us we are in competition with one another.

Because when one of us rises, we all rise. When one of us falls, we all feel the pain. We are bound by a shared history of suffering but also by a shared destiny of liberation. We cannot be free until we are all free.

So what now? We reclaim the love that was stolen from us. We heal the wounds, rebuild trust, and unite. Unity is not just a word—it’s a practice. When we unite, we become unstoppable. We go from being victims of the system to being architects of a future where our children will never have to suffer the way we did.

This is our time to stand together, brothers and sisters. Let’s rise from the ashes of oppression and build a future where no more lives are lost to hate, where no more bodies are brutalized by a racist system. Let’s claim our legacy and rise, together.


Together, we are unstoppable.
Together, we will rise.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog