My Visit to The Peace and Justice Memorial in Montgomery, AL

Let me tell y’all something… nothing, and I mean nothing, could’ve prepared me for the spiritual weight and sacred power I felt walking through Montgomery, Alabama’s National Memorial for Peace and Justice. From the very first step onto those grounds, I knew I wasn’t just visiting a monument — I was walking with my ancestors.

The memorial opens with a painful truth — 12 million stolen souls, melanated just like me, were forced into this land. Not as guests. Not as workers. As property. As cargo. And many of those same people — men, women, children — were lynched without justice, without reason, and for many, without even a name recorded.

But unknown to whom?

Because every soul that touched this earth was known to somebody. A mama. A cousin. A child. A lover. Every single one had a story. These names? They are not forgotten here.

I stood in awe, reading names that stretched into the heavens. Some listed full families lynched on the same day — literally generations murdered like it was sport. Children. Elders. Just because. And sometimes, not even because — but just because a mob of 3,000… or 10,000… felt like it.

 The weight was heavy. I raged silently. I reflected deeply. This ain’t a place for Instagram aesthetics — this is a space for truth-telling. For accountability. For education. For healing.

These statues didn’t just depict slavery — they pulled you into the trauma. Into the resistance. Into the resilience.

Then I came across Toni Morrison’s words on the wall… and baby, they cut deep:

“Love Your Neck… Hear me now, love your heart. For this is the prize .”

That line wrapped itself around my soul. Because that’s exactly what this space does. It calls you remember, to feel, to honor, and to love yourself through it all.

This isn’t just a memorial — it’s a living testimony. It says to the world, “You will see us. You will acknowledge what was done. You will remember.”

To Bryan Stevenson and all the hands that made this possible — blessings upon blessings. You’ve created a space where the truth can breathe. Where the dead can speak. Where the living can listen.

So to anyone who thinks history can be erased… this is your reminder that the truth ain’t going nowhere. It lives right here in Montgomery.