My recollection of dancing at the senior center contained pure and innocent joy. Older women clapping and smiling, shouting, "Go head shuga!" I want to be that type of elder. An elder who creates safe spaces for girls to be, as big, as wild and as free as they want to be before society and life tries to snatch it out of them. I’m glad I had that space. My dad, on the other hand, despised seeing me dance. What I saw as innocent fun, he saw as an "invitation."

I told a male house guest, a friend of my now ex-husband, that I was a feminist. The white, self-identified "freedom fighter" asked a question that startled me.

Stop breathing away your rage. Anger isn't a distraction from inner peace — it's a necessary tool.