ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A powerful dream, awake from sleep. An envelope folding in on itself, time warped. Here is how it went: I was playing with my kids, watching my kids. We are at a mall and there is a parking lot. The background is I have this fear of parking lots. I am worried that my kids will be hit by a car in a parking lot. People generally drive slower in parking lots so it is not completely rational but it is there nonetheless. I am watching my kids on the sidewalk near this parking lot, when I observe young men hiding something behind a bench. Is it drugs? Always subconsciously there are thoughts of safety when I am with my kids. Did I imagine it? Was an ancestor run over by a street car? Was he tied down and then run over because he was running bootleg? This is a story I’ve heard. Are these young men outside selling drugs? Do I have drugs on me? Then the police are on the scene and they are listening to the conversation of these young men. But we are no longer in a time that is now and I am no longer with my kids. We know that the police will make something up. These young men will be sent up the river or they will be sold down river. The writing is all over the walls of my dream. And I am left sobbing uncontrollably as I stand with these young men who will be falsely accused. And as I stand with them for some reason I thank them through tears because I know that the trauma of our ancestors is in us. And if we know the stories and tell them, then it is those stories that give us resilience. So, I would like to start by thanking my ancestors, my grandparents and my parents; my wife and life partner, Saru; my kids, Akeela and Lina; and my brother and sister.

My grandfather Bernard Norris and grandmother Annie Mae Norris were both born in a little town called Osyka, in Mississippi, near the border of Louisiana. They grew up together in Osyka. My grandfather worked on the trains throughout the South. They went from Louisiana to Texas to Southern California, to the Central Valley and finally to San Francisco.

My father’s mother, Annie Mae, always held the family together and was one of the strongest women I have ever met. I still remember fishing with her at Clear Lake and feeling totally at peace. She let me eat rice and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because I was a picky eater. She was such a solid presence, and raised five children and helped raise some grandkids too.

My father’s father called me “fishin’ buddy” because I used to like to go fishing with him and my grandma too. Despite carrying a lot of responsibility, he always seemed cool, calm, and collected.

My mother’s father, William Thomas Dunn, a San Francisco native, was always there for me. He always seemed to just take things in stride and go with the flow. He always had a sports magazine for me and a joke to tell. He played baseball in the Pacific League, which took him to Vancouver, where he met my grandmother. They moved together back to San Francisco.

My mother’s mother, Fenella Dunn, is an amazing person. She is one of the most kind, brilliant, caring, and thoughtful people I know. She kept the family connected by keeping us in contact with one another. She helped me get through high school and college. She has always been incredibly generous and concerned with others.

My mother is like the sun. Clouds or not, rain or not, you know the sun is there despite it all. Where would I be without my mom? She took on the world to keep us safe and to give us a chance at happiness.

When I was three or four years old, I managed to accidentally lock my dad out of the house. He climbed under the crawl space to get back in. That is the determination of the best dad I could ever ask for.

My wife is a bad-ass. She is fierce, she is determined, she is a mama bear to our kids, and she will take you down if you mess with us. I am so glad to be in a partnership, in a relationship, and on too-infrequent date nights with her! She loves so intensely, she feels so deeply, she cares for the world and all the creatures in it. Saru, will you go out with me?

To my daughters, Akeela and Lina, I will always be in awe of you. I hope to be the dad you deserve and thank you for continuing to hold me accountable.

My older brother Toreano, when I turned thirteen years old, gave me a copy of The Autobiography of Malcolm X. That was the earliest step on my path toward trying to reshape the world around me toward justice. I have appreciated his support every step along that path.

During summers in high school, my older sister Satise let me stay with her while she was at school at the University of California at Santa Cruz. Who lets her little brother tag along at college? I’ll tell you who! My sister. She is a co-conspirator, an artist, and a teacher who inspires me to dream big.

Paige Bence and John Lee are like second parents to me. I spent so many nights at their home, it felt like my own. I would like to thank my Uncle Bernard, Aunt Carolyn, and Uncle Quincy for their support in providing interviews and just being uncles and aunts and great people.

Ariane Conrad, Book Doula Extraordinaire, believed I had this book in me. At first, I wasn’t sure I did, and then I starting feeling myself and wanted to cover safety, democracy, relationships, trauma, fascism, racism, and some other topics, too, all in one book. She helped me discern, write, and secure a publishing contract for this book. I am grateful for her friendship and guidance. Thanks also go to Emily Paul who volunteered research support.

Helene Atwan and the team at Beacon believed in this book. I am proud to join the ranks of Beacon’s fearless, truth-telling authors.

I want to thank all those who shared their stories with me and whose stories I was welcomed to share, above all Durrell and Allen Feaster, Marlena and James Henderson, Anita De Asis Miralle, as well as DeVone Boggan, Bill Lindsay, Sam Vaughn, Taryn Ishida, and Vanessa Moses.

I would also like to thank Diana Frappier and Van Jones for founding this amazing institution that is the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights. I would like to thank them for seeing my potential to grow and for their persistence in making change daily. I hope we honor your legacy, Miss Ella Jo Baker.

The Levi Strauss Foundation and Prime Movers/Hunt Alternatives provided support for the writing of this book and without that support, I wouldn’t be writing these acknowledgments.

There are many colleagues and comrades from whom I have learned so much and with whom I have sometimes disagreed, which is its own kind of learning: NTanya Lee, Steve Williams, Mei-ying Williams, Ying-sun Ho, Jakada Imani, Nicole Lee, Lenore Anderson, Bernadette Armand, Jennifer Kim, Nwamaka Agbo, Max Rameau, Grace Bauer, Gina Womack, Malkia Cyril, Eric Mann, Patrisse Cullors, Mark Anthony Johnson, Damon Azali-Rojas, Manuel Criollo, Maria Del Carmen Verdu, Joseph Jordan, Ajamu Dillahunt, Bryan Stevenson, and Michelle Alexander top a list too long to print here. When you are making your way to understand that a different world is possible, it is helpful to know that there are those who have already seen it and are actively dreaming and scheming to bring it into being.

Toward a more just world. Toward a more safe world.