The anguish jumped out of those 140 characters and shook me like I was standing outside the courthouse in Sanford, Fla. I cried right there in my seat. I was furious. I was hurt … despondent, even. How was this reality? In that moment, I felt as if black lives were completely devalued in America. In 2013, a black life wasn’t worth a thing. I don’t recall now what I posted, but I fired off a tweet and posted a passionate response to the news on Facebook. It’s where all of my circle was congregating around the country, on social media. Somehow, doing so left me with a slight feeling of empowerment though it was probably one of the points in my life when I felt most powerless. Before that day, I had donated to innocence projects and signed more petitions seeking justice for various African-American causes than I can count. But it was the swell of collective outcry on Black Twitter that made me believe change could happen.
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