Letter To … Kathryn

Dear Kathryn Johnson,

The day my book wrote its sixth chapter, yours came to an abrupt end. Your conclusion, written by the hands of others.

When I read that last paragraph, I see your last attempt at survival, as your final sentence lies rooted in defense.

I hear the 39 gruesome jabs of a pen in your delicate papers as a result of that effort, and I feel the five that stuck.

I hear the clicking of cuffs around your wrist as I feel your last breath linger in the air of your own home.

I hear the wails of your loved ones and can only imagine the weight felt from the blanket of pain, held down by the tight threads of family cut before their time.

92 years. I can only sit and imagine the life you lived. They say with each revolution around the sun wisdom follows tenfold. Reaping as a result of the experiences created, stories told, lessons learned, pains felt… All knots made to grow the glorious net of life you had. I can’t wait to hear about it one day.

Too many share the same fate in having their book shut closed before its time. Merely because their cover, their spine, and all the words written, are believed to bleed Black. And too many behind these violent and sudden endings get away, continuing their own stories with no concern for what role they’ve just played in another’s. Thankfully, you took hold of the pen of your culprits, as they serve five, six, and ten chapters behind bars. And although this is nothing compared to what your life and so many others deserve, we have to believe it’s a step forward, right?

It’s crazy how just a state away, and yet only beginning today, I’ll forever remember your name. A part of your story will now live on in mine. You will not be forgotten. We will keep fighting for you, Kathryn Johnston.

Yours truly,

Nasya Bernard-Lucien

Author: Nasya Bernard-Lucien

Addressee: Kathryn Johnson