Monday — A Sip of Flava

I was seven years old when Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated.

We had just started learning about the Civil Rights Movement in school. We learned about Rosa Parks and her refusal to give up her seat. I knew Dr. King’s name the way I knew my daddy’s—a minister, a man who spoke up for the rights of Black people. And then there was Malcolm X.

At that age, I didn’t fully understand what was happening. But I felt it.

We were asked to write letters to Coretta Scott King and her children after the assassination. A year later, my daddy’s friend and colleague, Edwin T. Pratt, who was Civil Rights Activist in Seattle was assassinated.

Growing up in the Black community of Seattle, the impact was everywhere. Even if I couldn’t yet put language to it, the weight of it lived in the air.

As I got older, understanding caught up with memory.

When I was a preteen, I babysat two little white boys—the sons of an attorney. Every year, we baked a birthday cake for Dr. King. I’d tell them a simple, age-appropriate version of his story. Nothing heavy. Just enough truth to plant a seed.

Not far from where I lived were the headquarters of the Seattle chapter of the Black Panther Party. Slogans were spray-painted across buildings in my neighborhood: Free Huey. These weren’t distant headlines. This was my everyday landscape.

So every January 15th, I’m taken back to that time—when people were fighting for equal rights, respect, and freedom with their whole bodies and voices.

I find myself wondering… if Dr. King were alive today, what would this world look like?

Truth is, I believe this country still needs that kind of voice. That commitment. That moral courage to speak plainly and stand firm.

So today, I sip my coffee and reflect.

I pray for a better future—for all people—on this day and every day.

— Lady Flava ☕🌻