Who are some of Baton Rouge's lesser known, but very active SJWs?

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Hey guys! I'm Meghan, a red-headed 30-something who doesn’t quite fit the stereotype of a southern girl. My husband and I live in south Louisiana with our four ridiculously awesome ginger children, our cat, four dogs, and a fish named Bob. He is a business owner and big-time dreamer. I am a freelance writer, blogger, and director of a national show called Listen to Your Mother. I am also a contributor to Baton Rouge Moms and Mother Letters, and recently founded a photojournalism project called Thin RedLine Project which highlights the beauty in people of underserved communities.

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Between home schooling and appointments and running the zoo that is my house, I rarely have time to bathe, but my husband doesn't seem to mind so whatever. We are living the dream of butt wiping, snotty noses, molding little minds and toasting long days over wine and Netflix and dreams of making this world a better place.

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Every once in a while you run across a quote that awakens something inside of you and you are changed. I came across this quote on Friday and then yesterday Corey Booker tweeted something very similar (though I am not sure if it was misquoted or another quote entirely).

It's no coincidence that Friday was a very difficult day for my family as we came under intense pressure from people we love to censor our speech on social media in regards to our activism work. This is not a new occurrence but this time it affected us in a more visceral way, especially given the disgusting attacks once again launched against my family this week on the filth that is tigerdroppings.com. So then to see these words come across a screen spoke to something in me in an indescribably powerful way and I was reminded of the calling that screams out from deep within my soul. Facets of Facebook had both caused my hurt and helped to heal it within a few hours, and I was empowered to march on.

Not everyone will understand me. Lord knows many people won't like me. But the storm has to contend with me,

AND I AM A WARRIOR.

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For 5.5 years, we had a black son. It's not something we hide- looking back at our posts and photos he is clearly there. It's a very long story and one I am happy to share in person, but I don't put his business on the internet to chase him around forever. We love him, and we always will. Period. However, some people have been critical of our stance that black lives matter when we "gave up on one." So, I want to be clear:

No one else lived in our house. No one else experienced our years of anguish and turmoil and guilt and heartache. No one else spent 3.5 months separated from this family to fight to bring that child here to America. No one else sat in a courtroom begging a judge to let us bring him home.

No one else wept night after night, week after week, year after year for him. No one else took him to the therapists and appointments and fought for his IEP's and teachers and programs to best suit him. No one else saw what happened here in our home. No one else felt the burning pain in the pit of their stomach knowing what they had to do for him. No one else prayed our prayers. No one else feels our fear or our peace.

We in NO way "gave up" on a black boy. We have fought for that kid every second of every day from the moment we learned of his existence.

What we did do was let him go.

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