I don’t often speak about my personal life because, well, that’s not what I do. It’s weird. I teach. I speak. I write. I activate.

But I’m also a man with a family at home.

So this is a note to say that I’m thankful for my family we’ve made in Harlem. Luz and Alejandro are my life source. I do my best to not give off the impression that I have it all together. Far from. Yet, they make me want to do better for myself regularly. This past week, with her surgeries and rushes to the hospital, I’m calling myself out to do a better job of thanking them for their existences.

It’d be dishonest of me if I said I was a completely different man back before I swaddled Ale the newborn almost four years ago. For human beings, there’s no such thing as a tabula rasa. Yet, the spirits have summoned me to take on a challenge that’ll always challenge me, one that doesn’t keep score. On days when I don’t feel like I can arise to the challenge, looking at my family’s faces provides the source of life.

I stared at Luz and Ale at their lowest points. Her recovering after surgery. Him moaning, tossing, and heaving even after we went to the doctor. They reminded me of my calling to them. I embraced that. And them.

Love.