Memory does not keep time the way clocks do.
It keeps impact.
It keeps feeling.
It keeps the moments when something inside us recognized truth before our minds had words for it.

That is why so many people remember February not by dates, but by what it felt like when Michael Jackson took hold of the world’s attention and did not flinch from who he was.

When Black or White premiered at the start of February, it wasn’t just a video.
It was a pause.
A collective breath shared across borders, languages, and living rooms.

And when Remember the Time arrived at the edge of February-Black History Month- it carried that same gravity.
It did not need the exact same calendar placement to land in memory the same way.
It arrived with meaning already attached.

That is how memory works.

Michael Jackson understood something many never learn:
universality is not achieved by erasing yourself.
It is achieved by standing fully inside who you are.

We always knew where he came from.

A working-class Black family. A large one. Jehovah’s Witnesses. 
A small house in Detroit.
Siblings stacked close together in shared space and shared dreams.
A childhood shaped by discipline, music, labor, and love.

Those roots were never hidden.
They were the ground beneath everything he built.

He did not run from them.
He carried them with him into stadiums, into studios, into history.

Some people mistook complexity for rejection.

They misread his skin condition instead of learning about it.
They misinterpreted his wide circle of friends as disloyalty.
They confused his love for many cultures with a lack of love for his own.

But the truth was simpler and deeper.

He did not abandon his culture.
He expanded the room.

He showed what it looks like when a Black man is so at home in himself that he can welcome the world without shrinking. (Never said one demeaning word about Black women or men, only put us all in beautiful lights, set us to music, and put us on stages with alongside him)

That confidence unsettled people who needed identity to be narrow, controlled, and easily categorized.
So they rewrote him.
They projected.
They speculated.

Memory, however, kept the truth.

February remembers him not because of a date on a calendar, but because of alignment.

A Black artist holding global attention without apology

African and diasporic imagery centered with beauty and authority

Unity offered without surrender

Love expressed without dilution

That is why people say, “It was February,” even when the math gets fuzzy.

Meaning leaves fingerprints.
Calendars do not.

Michael Jackson had the world in his hands.
And instead of running from who he was, he stood inside it fully.

That is why people from everywhere found themselves in his work.
Not because he became less specific, but because he became more honest.

Memory remembers that.

Not the date.
Not the broadcast schedule.

But the moment when truth met timing and stayed.

P.S. And hell yeah, I’m feeling Jossie Harris Thacker. Because if I had danced with the Janet Jackson (That’s the Way Love Goes) and the Michael Jackson in REMEMBER THE TIME…

No Sir. No Ma’am. You could not tell me nothing ever again.

She did not say that exactly ……but I would. LOL.  (which is probably why it was not my blessing. lol.)

As Ｓｈａｙｌｙｎｎ, @mjsaura on X.com points out ….in a time when Black women were STILL as underrepresented as we are now, Michael Jackson cast Black women not just as background dancers and singers, but as his love interests, his queen, long lost love, the “girl next door” and the woman that he was in pursuit of.

He showed all cultures on this planet love and adoration, but he never failed to showcase the love and beauty of his home culture.

---

Remember the Time Facts

• Premiered late January 1992 with heavy prime-time rotation spilling into early February

• Cinematic scale, ancient African imagery, and unapologetic Black brilliance

• Premiered as a high-profile TV event in the U.S., heavily coordinated across major networks and MTV

• Closely tied to Super Bowl weekend attention and prime-time placement

• Felt like a cultural takeover, even if it wasn’t a single worldwide clock-strike moment

While its official premiere date is generally cited as January 31, 1992, many people experienced it during the opening days of February due to:

• Saturation airplay

• Prime-time scheduling

• Super Bowl–adjacent media attention

<p>The post Remember the Time: Memory Remembers Meaning, Not Calendars first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

Photo by David Kwewum

We might not be able to be friends and that’s okay.

• Part of my healing is recognizing that not every person deserves access to my spirit.

• I release relationships that require me to dim, shrink, or dilute who I am becoming.

• I do not need companionship that confuses peace with silence or growth with obedience.

• I am not governed by another person’s fears, projections, or unfinished thinking.

• I honor that others may have beliefs, but I am not required to live inside them.

• My inner world is sacred, and I choose what is planted there.

• I am tending to my own beliefs with care, discernment, and wisdom.

• I nurture thoughts that strengthen me, steady me, and remind me who I am.

• I choose friendships that celebrate clarity, not control.

• My light is not arrogance. My light is alignment.

• I am allowed to grow beyond who others are comfortable understanding.

• I trust myself to know what nourishes me and what drains me.

• I am becoming more myself, and that is enough.

<p>The post Survivor Affirmations: I Tend My Own Light (w video) first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

While performing at the Municipal Auditorium in Birmingham before an all-white audience, a group of white segregationists rushed the stage and physically assaulted him. They knocked him off the piano bench and he suffered a back injury. Police intervened quickly and arrested several assailants. Wikipedia+1

“I just came here to entertain you. That was what I thought you wanted. I was born here in Alabama. Those folks hurt my back. I cannot continue, because I need to see a doctor.” EJI Calendar+1

👊 The attack was racially motivated — fueled by Jim Crow attitudes and resentment that a Black entertainer was performing for white audiences. Some plans for the assault involved many more men, but police disrupted it. Wikipedia

🎤 After the attack, Cole briefly returned to the stage and told the audience he couldn’t continue without medical attention. He later performed his scheduled show for Black audiences that same night. EJI Calendar

🧠 Cole was deeply affected by the incident. At the time he expressed confusion about being targeted, saying he wasn’t actively protesting segregation — but the attack helped push him toward deeper involvement in civil-rights causes. University of Dayton+1

How the Attack Shaped Nat King Cole’s Later Actions

Before the Birmingham assault, Nat King Cole was often described as careful and non-confrontational about civil rights. He believed—understandably—that excellence, dignity, and professionalism might offer protection in a violently segregated world. Was he not the epitome of excellence?

What Birmingham taught him was this:

Even restraint is not immunity.
Even brilliance is not shelter.
Even silence does not guarantee safety.

After that night, several shifts became visible, because Mr. Cole was done and he was through.

1. He became more financially supportive of the movement
Nat King Cole began quietly donating to civil-rights organizations, including the NAACP. He didn’t always publicize this. He understood the cost of visibility—and chose impact over applause.

2. He stopped believing that “just entertaining” was enough
His statement—“I came here to entertain you”—was not weakness.
It was a realization spoken aloud: that even joy, talent, and grace were being politicized when carried in a Black body.

That recognition changed how he understood the world he was moving through.

3. He grew clearer about the limits placed on Black excellence
Cole did not suddenly become a protest singer. His contribution was different—and that matters. He embodied the truth that:

Respectability does not protect you from hatred.
Silence does not stop violence.
Success does not cancel racism.

For many Survivors, this resonates deeply.
You can do everything “right” and still be targeted.
You can be peaceful and still be punished.
You can offer beauty and still be met with harm.

4. He influenced the generation that followed
Artists like Sam Cooke would later speak openly about how Nat King Cole’s experiences shaped their own decisions to be more explicit, more outspoken, more demanding of dignity. Cole’s pain became part of a lineage of clarity.

He didn’t fail the movement by being who he was.
He showed, in real time, the cost of existing in a body the world had already decided to politicize.

5. By 1957 Nat King Cole was calling things out. Cole himself chose to end 📺 The Nat King Cole Show which was a weekly musical variety series on NBC beginning in 1956. Cole was first African-American entertainer to host a national TV variety program show and after NBC couldn’t find sponsors and the network planned less favorable time slots. He famously said of advertisers, “Madison Avenue is afraid of the dark,” pointing to how racial prejudice shaped who gets supported and who doesn’t. Wikipedia

Why This Matters for Survivors Today

This is not just history.
This is pattern recognition.

Many Survivors are accused of being “too much,” “divisive,” or “making it about identity” when they are simply naming what happened to them.

Nat King Cole’s life reminds us:

• You don’t have to be loud to be targeted

• You don’t have to be radical to be punished

• Sometimes your presence alone disrupts denial

And that does not make you wrong.

There will be moments when people accuse you of being “racial,” “divisive,” or “making things about race.”

Not because you shouted.
Not because you attacked.
Not because you sought conflict.

But because you showed up as yourself.

In this world, some bodies arrive already read as statements.
Some lives are treated as arguments.
Some presence is interpreted as defiance—before a single word is spoken.

That is not something you created.
That is something history assigned.

You are not responsible for the discomfort that rises when truth stands in the room.

Sometimes who you are is already considered “on the offense”—
not because you’re aggressive,
but because your existence disrupts the fantasy that everything is neutral, fair, or resolved.

This is not about intention.
It is about perception shaped by power.

You may notice:

• People demand that you be “less visible” to be considered fair
• Your silence is acceptable, but your voice is labeled a threat
• Your presence is tolerated only when it reassures others
• Your humanity is politicized while theirs is presumed neutral

This is not because you failed to be gentle enough.
It is because some systems only feel peaceful when you are quiet.

Let this be a reminder you return to often:

Being named “political” does not mean you are wrong.
It often means you are seen.

There is nothing radical about existing in your full humanity.
There is nothing hostile about telling the truth of your life.
There is nothing aggressive about refusing to shrink.

You are allowed to take up space without apologizing.
You are allowed to speak without translating your pain into palatable language.
You are allowed to stand firm without being mislabeled.

Affirmation

I release the need to defend my existence.
I am not required to soften my truth to make others comfortable.
I understand that my presence may challenge illusions—but I do not carry shame for that.
I stand rooted, whole, and clear.
I belong here.

— Survivor Affirmations

<p>The post When Being Yourself Is Labeled “Political”: Why some people are punished simply for showing up first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

Notice how people speak about sacrifices made for art vs. how they speak about sacrifices made for their favorite football or basketball player…..

When people talk about Prince’s body—
the injuries, the surgeries, the pain—they rarely say what they’re really saying.

They frame it as concern.
As hindsight.
As “if only.”

But beneath it is something older and sharper.

They are questioning his maleness.

Not openly.
Not honestly.
But persistently.

Because if Prince had used his body differently—
if he had sacrificed it on a football field,
or bruised it in hockey rinks,
or broken it down for a sport already sanctioned as “masculine”—

No one would be asking if it was worth it.

They would call him disciplined.
They would call him tough.
They would call it the cost of greatness.

But Prince was a dancer.

And that changed everything.

Dance Exposes the Double Standard

Dance requires strength, stamina, precision, endurance, and pain tolerance.
It demands training that is relentless.
It reshapes muscle, bone, balance, and breath.

It is athleticism.

But because dance is expressive, sensual, embodied—
because it refuses the blunt language of domination—
it is treated as suspect when practiced by men.

Especially Black men.

Especially men who refuse to blunt themselves to be palatable.

So when Prince’s body bore the marks of devotion,
people didn’t read it as occupational risk.

They read it as a flaw.

A choice too soft.
Too vain.
Too indulgent.

Not masculine enough.

This Is About Permission

We allow certain bodies to be spent.

We give permission for boys, little ones, to be injured in the name of:

• competition

• aggression

• conquest

• legacy

We do not give that same permission for:

• beauty

• artistry

• sensual intelligence

• emotional truth

When men choose the latter, their masculinity is quietly put on trial.

Prince stood in that tension unapologetically.

He did not apologize for the way he moved.
He did not harden his art to soothe anyone’s comfort.
He did not make his body smaller to earn approval.

And for that, his pain is reinterpreted as a mistake rather than a consequence of mastery.

Women Notice These Things

Because we have watched this play out again and again.

We know how bodies are policed.
We know how worth is assigned.
We know how deviation is punished with “concern.”

We know when someone is being asked:
Why didn’t you choose a more acceptable way to be yourself?

Prince didn’t fail his body.

He honored it.

He used it with intention, devotion, and genius.

What unsettles people is not the injury.

It’s the refusal to live inside the narrow permissions offered to him as a man.

Let’s Be Honest About the Discomfort

If Prince had broken himself for a sport,
they would have said:
“He gave everything for what he loved.”

Because he broke himself for ART,
they say:
“He should have known better.”

That tells us everything.

This was never about safety.

It was about who gets to decide which lives, which bodies, and which callings are worthy.

It is okay for people to speak exhaustively about how petite and short statured he was, but not about how that same physique gave him athletic advantages as an extraordinary dancer. 

In any case, Prince decided for himself.

Prince didn’t fail his body.
He used it with intention.

And that kind of freedom has always made people uncomfortable.

Because let us note that after the devastation and warnings of CTE, football games go on as planned. With great enthusiasm and financial support. From little league on up. Even after the tragedy of Aaron Hernandez and his high school football teammates who themselves went on to commit violent offenses. (includes multiple murders and a police ambush)

So let this be the part we carry forward.

Do not let people who have never lived in your body decide what your devotion should look like.
Do not let borrowed fears talk you out of your own calling.
Do not let “concern” become a softer word for control.

Every true path asks something of the body, the spirit, the nerves.
There is no risk-free way to live honestly.

What matters is not whether the calling costs you.
What matters is whether it is yours.

Prince listened to the voice that told him who he was.
He answered it fully.
And whatever the cost, he did not live half-formed or apologetic.

That kind of life is not reckless.
It is intentional.

So heed the thing that keeps returning to you.
The craft.
The movement.
The work that makes your body feel awake and your spirit feel aligned.

Let others manage their discomfort.

Your task is simpler—and braver:
to live in truth,
to honor your gift,
and to spend your life on something that recognizes you back.

When Prince’s athleticism—his dancing, his physical devotion to art—is criticized as “dangerous,” “reckless,” or “self-inflicted,” what’s actually being questioned is:

Is this a worthy use of a body?

Even when the injury risks are equal or higher in sanctioned sports.

So no—this isn’t about concern.
It’s about whose pursuits are respected.

<p>The post It’s Not About Safety. It’s About How He Used His Body. first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

path designed for extreme longevity of the body.

More than most people, dancers understand exactly what their bodies are telling them.

I am allowed to choose the life I want to live.

I listen to my body.
I honor its signals.
And I also honor my spirit—
the part of me that longs to move, create, build, dance, sing, risk, love.

I understand that every meaningful life carries cost.
Still, I choose consciously—not by accident, not by pressure, not by fear.

I do not owe anyone a sanitized version of my humanity.
I do not need to justify my devotion to the things that make me feel alive.

Like all true artists, athletes, and builders,
I know that passion leaves marks.
And I accept that my life is mine to shape.

I release the need to explain myself to spectators.
I refuse to let endings erase purpose.
I honor a life by speaking of its fire, not its final hour.

I choose how I live.
I choose what matters.
I choose to move toward what feels true—even when it is demanding.

And that choice belongs to me.

Prince chose thriving over postponing life.
He chose expression over rationing joy.
He chose to pour himself fully into the years he had,
rather than live cautiously for a

future that was never promised.

Dancers know the cost, and still they must because it is who they are.

Prince created such mesmerizing iconic classics that you almost missed that he was a brilliant dancer. Not just because he enjoyed dancing like so many of us human beings. But also, because his body had physical advantages. And so, he was a dancer. He chose to be a dancer…..too. 

Yes, this post is about agency. 

<p>The post An Affirmation for Choosing How You Live first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

Notice how people speak about sacrifices made for art vs. how they speak about sacrifices made for their favorite football or basketball player…..

Dancers understand this almost instinctively.

Anyone who danced the way Prince danced—
with that level of athleticism, speed, torque, elevation, repetition,
and especially in heels—
understood early on that this was not a path designed for extreme longevity of the body.

Not because of ignorance.
But because of honesty.

Dancers learn quickly that the body keeps score.
It speaks through ankles and knees.
Through hips and spine.
Through feet that ache long after the lights go out.

And still—there is choice.

Prince chose thriving over postponing life.
He chose expression over rationing joy.
He chose to pour himself fully into the years he had,
rather than live cautiously for a future that was never promised.

That choice was not denial.
It was clarity, especially as a Black creative who lived through many of his peers leaving this world too soon with earth shattering gifts still unwrapped.

Most elite dancers know they are not training for deep old age onstage.
They are training for now—
for presence, excellence, impact, and truth in motion.

This is where agency matters.

Some people choose a long life defined by calm, soothing, and physical preservation.
That is a valid choice.
It is not, however, every artist’s choice.

Others choose to use the body fully—
lovingly, fiercely, and with intention—
knowing that devotion leaves marks.

Neither path is foolish.
They are simply different lives.

Prince did not dance because it was safe.
He danced because it was who he was.

Dancers recognize this immediately,
because many of them have made the same quiet agreement with their bodies:

They will listen.
They will care.
And they will also live through them.

Thriving is not the same as lasting forever.
Sometimes thriving means burning bright—
skillfully, deliberately—
and leaving a legacy that outlives the body itself.

That, too, is wisdom.

<p>The post The Bold Choice to Live AND Thrive first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

Today, I look for quiet, healthy ways to do good.

Photo by Hanna Eberhard

 because my presence in the world carries weight.

I understand that goodness does not require exhaustion.
It does not ask me to abandon myself.
It flows best when I am grounded, nourished, and whole.

I remain open to small acts that matter:
listening without interrupting,
offering help without control,
speaking truth without cruelty,
leaving places and people better than I found them.

I trust my discernment.
I do not rush to fix what is not mine to carry.
I choose actions that align with my values, my capacity, and my health.

When I give, I give with wisdom.
When I rest, I rest without guilt.
Both are forms of service.

I am allowed to do good in ways that are sustainable, humane, and real.
I am learning that consistency matters more than spectacle.
Care, when practiced daily, becomes a quiet force for change.

Today, I move through the world awake—
not hardened, not naïve,
but steady in my intention to contribute goodness where I truly can.

And that is enough.

Someone online found a live map for those who want to support them as they walk to support peace for us all. 

Buddhists do not take what is not given. Kind souls, like the beautiful one in this video, who share and provide offerings are a blessing right now. Spread love generously.

<p>The post An Affirmation for Choosing Active Goodness first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

<p>The post Why the People You Help Are Always the First to Betray You first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

I woke up and encountered this story by BigBoi. Made my morning.

Your story has the power to do that too. Keep living. Keep crafting your storytelling skills. 

---

And This is why I don’t fly private ….. True Story pic.twitter.com/9npozDNqca

— Big Boi (@BigBoi) November 20, 2025

I woke up and encountered this story by BigBoi. Made my morning.

Your story has the power to do that too. Keep living. Keep crafting your storytelling skills. 

Fight injustice when it comes to storytelling and representation —
but never stop telling your story.

There will always be people who try to silence others

There will always be systems that twist narratives, erase voices, or elevate the wrong ones.
And there will always be those who benefit from keeping the truth hidden.

But your story is not optional.
Your story is not disposable.
Your story is not too much, too messy, too emotional, or “not the right time.”

Your story is evidence.
Your story is wisdom.
Your story is survival.
Your story is power stitched together from experience, clarity, and courage.

Injustice thrives when the truth is quiet.
Power strengthens when the harmed go silent.
Representation disappears when some voices are talked over, rewritten, or ignored.

So yes — fight the injustice.
Push back against misrepresentation.
Name the ways your truth has been flattened, softened, or erased.

But do not stop speaking.
Do not stop sharing.
Do not stop taking up space in the world with what you lived through and what you learned.

Because every time you tell your story with honesty, with boundaries, with strength, and with love for yourself…

You shift the world.
You widen the path for someone coming behind you.
You become the proof that silence is not the only option.

Your voice is a lighthouse.
Let it shine.
Let it warn.
Let it guide.
Let it heal.

And let it keep on telling the truth.

<p>The post Your Voice Is a Lighthouse: Keep Shining Through the Noise (Featuring Amazing Animated Story by BigBoi) first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>

There’s a moment at the finish line of the New York City Marathon thatdoesn’t make the highlight reels.
It’s long after the crowds have thinned, after the bright lights and cameras have turned toward faster stories.
The streets are quieter now. The confetti has settled.And still—
someone keeps moving.Their legs ache. Their body trembles.
Every step is an act of faith.
Every breath says: I’m still here.No medals waiting. No roaring applause.
Just the sound of sneakers scraping pavement,
and a heart that refuses to give up.That’s perseverance.
That’s the sacred strength Survivors know too well.
You keep going when no one is cheering.
You keep healing when the world says, “Aren’t you over that yet?”
You keep showing up for your life—
even when your spirit is tired and your story has been misunderstood.

You are the marathoner of your own becoming.
Every scar, every tear, every mile has meant something.
You may not have come in first,
but you finished through storms that would have broken others.

Today, may this video remind you:
You are not behind.
You are not late.
You are not less.

You are still running.
Still healing.
Still becoming.
And that, amazing Warrior, is victory of the highest kind.

---

✨ Affirmation:
Even when the world moves on, I keep going.
My pace is holy. My perseverance is power.
I have already won—because I never stopped running.

@raymondbraun Humanity at its finest. The New York City Marathon Finish Line after Dark showcases the best of our resilience, grit, and community. It was so special to be part of this tradition celebrating the final finishers of such an iconic race. #NYCMarathon #tcsnycmarathon #running #runninginspiration ♬ suono originale – swami

@frontofficesports The last person to finish the NYC Marathon: Juan Pablo Dos Santos, a Venezuelan amputee athlete who lost his legs in a traffic accident. After 15 hours and 21 minutes, Dos Santos crossed the finish line—surrounded by supporters—at 12:34 a.m. #nycmarathon #marathon #marathonrunner ♬ original sound – Front Office Sports

<p>The post For the Ones Who Keep Going When No One’s Watching first appeared on Survivor Affirmations.</p>