What does it mean to truly belong?
I asked myself that question as I stood at the base of a preserved auction block in the National Museum of African American History and Culture.
I remember that day almost perfectly. Despite a chilly 55 degrees, Washington, D.C., was bustling, although the bustling had a certain stillness to it. Walking to the museum was a joyful experience due to the beautiful scenery. As I got closer, I could see the...
