A Love Letter to Atlanta

Dear Atlanta,

You were the first city I moved to outside of my hometown — and then you became my home. I’ve spent a decade with you. You gave me Spelman. You gave me friends. You gave me trials and tribulations. You gave me culture.

Atlanta, you are beautiful. You are rich with history, filled with the echoes of resilience. I pray you never lose that. When I first came to you, I saw grit. I saw visions of your future. I walked the same streets where civil rights leaders marched, where ground was broken and glass ceilings shattered. You hold the heart of Black excellence. You are the home of some of the most prestigious HBCUs, a cradle of brilliance and legacy.

But something happened to you. Gentrification. It began before I arrived, but I watched it worsen. I watched people become more superficial, obsessed with aesthetics instead of true quality of life. I watched integrity slip away. I stopped seeing love in your eyes, the light in your heart. Too many became crabs in a bucket, clawing at each other with lies.

Atlanta, this is not why I came to you. This is not the city I first fell in love with. And yet, you will forever be my first love — because of your Blackness, your beauty, your history, and your promise.

I hope you find your way back home to your roots. I hope you remember your duty. I hope you rise again in truth.

With love,

Me