 1955, set the scene. A little black girl plays jump rope outside in the hot sun and becomes thirsty, walks off to find water, passing by several fountains that could quickly cool her down so she finds the one just for her marked colored. Not far from her, a group of black friends enjoy their last week of summer with laughter and smiles and thanksgiving on their faces. Hungry for a bite to eat, they head to the safest restaurant they can find, the one where they get dirty looks because of their skin but no real trouble so it'll do. About five miles away an elderly black woman sits at a bus stop, feet aching from a long day's work. After what seemed like hours of waiting, her bus finally arrives. She is met with piercing eyes and disdain as the pain in her feet settles soon as she sits in an empty seat in the back. In one day, one day they all grew tired. Black Americans across the nation, the stench of segregation and separation in a land their ancestors were forced into had turned their stomachs long enough, the solution keeping their money in their pockets. Thus the legendary boycott was born. For one year they walked instead of hopping on buses where wannabe superior people made them feel less than. They carpooled and used their feet like never before to send a message that the black dollar is oh so valuable and without human rights, without equality, without respect, America would not see a single black dollar spent on transportation and in the midst of all of this while facing oppression and lynching and trying to earn the right to drink from whatever fountain they pleased, black folks continued to make America great, continued to make the world a better place with no recognition, no fame, no investment, just faceless souls who created creations credited to faces that don't look like ours. When you think of computers, you think Bill and Steve, not Philip, the man responsible for advancing the speed of the very thing this society could probably not live without, Philip Imigwali, a man whose intelligence no doubt paved the way for technological advancement when he created the world's fastest computer. Today we honor the dishonored, the forgotten, the masterminds behind our everyday lives, the ones who made social impact long before it was even a phrase, the ones who capitalism does not always serve, the ones who deserve recognition for their beautiful creative minds. Did you know that the reason you can sleep well at night, secure in your home, protected by your alarm is because of a black woman? The most disrespected, unprotected person in America is the very person keeping millions alive. How ironic that when you're security is installed, bail arm or ADT, you should be given thanks to Marie Van Britton Brown, a crime fighter in her own rights, a soul barely known to many. Ain't it sad that this world would rather crumble into pieces than to acknowledge its need for blackness, for a black man, the reason a firefighter can fight fires and not grow tired, the gas mask created by hands dripping and melanin, so hated that departments cancel their orders when they learn that a black man actually has a brain, that they would rather die than be saved by brown skin, rather die than confess how much of a necessity we truly are. So remember this the next time you're in your car and you get to a green light, smile, look up to heaven and send gratitude to Garrett Morgan, not only for the gas mask to protect our breathing, but the reason our vehicles don't collide in the streets, a three light traffic system. When you see bodies on the brink of kissing death's lips on the death beds waiting to exhale, think of Charles Drew, drew up a plan to store blood longer than two days made awake for this red elixir to remain intact so that hearts can keep beating until it is truly their time. We thank him for America's first major blood banks. In 2023 it is time we acknowledge the lost ones, Louis Latimer, the air conditioner, George Carruthers, UV camera for NASA, Patricia Bath, laser surgical device, Alexander Miles, automatic doors for elevators, Frederick Jones, refrigerated trucks, Lonnie G. Johnson, the super soaker, and the list goes on and on and on and on and on. Can you see that our everyday lives are impacted by things we take for granted, made by people we take for granted until they demand it? Respects, equity, recognition, investment into the very ideas and creations and inventions that keep this world turning. Burning in the hearts of a forgotten people is the desire to be seen, to be acknowledged for what we bring to the table for the blood and the sweats and the tears invested into creating for a world that rarely says thank you.