To My Future Children,

Unknown to your knowledge, there have been some recent atrocities in our country. The atrocities that concern me the most are the police brutality cases that have emerged. Every 7 hours, a police officer kills an American citizen, and in total, more than 600 people have been victims this year. As if this information alone is not disturbing enough, almost half of these victims were people of color (a term used to describe persons who are non-white); however, almost one-third of these victims identified as you will: African-American. And even scarier, as a black person in America, you are twice as likely to be unarmed than a white person, but you are still twice as likely to be the victim of police violence.

In 2012, a movement was created in an effort to resist the active dehumanization of black people, as well as formulate a response to anti-black racism. This movement is known as Black Lives Matter. It was established following the murder of Trayvon Martin and the acquittal of the police officer who prompted his killing, George Zimmerman. Four years after its founding, the Black Lives Matter movement stands stronger and more powerful than before [due to the recent events that have taken place].

In the last four years since Trayvon Martin's death, we have encountered more police brutality cases that have resulted in the senseless deaths of several African-Americans. Most notably are the cases of Walter Scott, Freddie Gray, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Sandra Bland, and most recently, Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. In a majority of these cases, the law enforcement officers are white males who improperly reacted to the situations, despite having been [supposedly] trained before entering the police force.

My dear children, I fear your existence. I fear your existence because now more than ever, it is frightening to be a black person in America. Black people are forced to be aware, be alert, and be cautious. The fear of becoming another hashtag is apparent. Whether compliance or disobedience is expressed, there is always the risk of ending up dead somehow.

My dear children, I fear your existence because you will struggle to feel safe in places where safety should be guaranteed. I fear that you may end up like the nine black people who lost their lives in the Charleston church massacre or be terrorized by radical racists like the black students at the University of Missouri. How can I permit you to enter a world with a society who believes you will fail? How can I permit you to enter a world that produced a judicial system designed to ensure your systematic and institutional oppression? How can I permit you to enter a world where your life can be taken away from you [and me] because of the color of your skin?

While I can continuously worry and fret over your existence, I can also choose not to. I can choose to be an advocate for reform, and continue to make a difference in the world now -- prior to your existence. I can use my voice and speak out against these fatal atrocities. I can join forces with other people, similar to me, who are interested in changing the world for our future generations. I can choose to not remain silent, and protect your lives before they are given to you.