Walking in my roots

Seen, Known, and Walking in My Roots

Today I had lunch at Pho Keizer, then walked out and headed to my usual spot — Human Bean. The workers there know my name, they see me, they already know my drink order. That kind of belonging matters.

As I crossed the street, a Black man called out, “How are you doing, beautiful?” I smiled and kept walking — with confidence — to my destination.

And I realized: that moment is beautiful. Especially when it comes from a Black man. Because knowing my story, I’ve come to see how beautiful Black men are to me. I’m a biracial woman with Black roots, and in finally identifying myself, I’ve learned to appreciate everything about me.

My color, my history, my journey — it’s enabled people to come to me who see something in me that resonates with them. Something familiar. Something human.

Life isn’t about color. It’s about the human race. But loving my roots has taught me how to love myself. And loving myself shows up in how I interact with others, how I connect, how I see people.

I love my life right now. And you can see it in my smile. You can feel it in how I walk. You can hear it when I say “thank you” to the barista who already knows my name.

I’m not hiding anymore. I’m not shrinking. I’m rooted, I’m rising, and I’m right where I belong.

www.cathrynmharris.com