- There's a lot that I've had to learn to understand and to live with here.

To me, it's as conflictuous as my life.

(lively music) Early on, I was angry at a lot of stuff.

Angry because I wasn't like everybody else.

But what I've learned is a lot of times we have a preconceived notion of what something should be.

And I think that's kind of how it is with me.

I'm just not usually what folks associate with that type of poverty.

Mississippi is majority Black, and I am still aware of my Blackness.

You really see where your status is when you walk around with someone that's of a different race.

Dora, we were together for 23 years.

If we were going somewhere to do a presentation, people would walk up and talk to Dora about me with me standing there.

For me, being Black in Mississippi means I can't just walk in the room, and people just automatically accept me as a person who can do things.

On November 18, 2019, Dora was diagnosed with ALS.

She passed away 76 days later.

She was a caregiver herself.

I'm visually impaired, so I'm the quote-unquote "disabled one," the "unnormal one."

And they would see her as my caregiver.

And now all of a sudden, the roles were reversed.

Somewhere while I was caring for Dora, I decided to be involved in ALS advocacy in some way, but I was terrified.

Being an advocate, I'm able to step on the stages and to write about this, and I don't have to be perfect.

You can do these talks and you don't have to know all of the medical terms.

You can just tell your story, and tell it truthfully.

(reflective music) I think this is the hardest thing to clean out for me.

This is where a lot of our life is.

You know, you create a culture when you're in a relationship.

And when you're the one left behind, to take that culture apart, ... ...it's really hard.

After she died, there was this intense ache, and nothing, nothing, nothing... ...would make it better.

You know, you can look here at this magnolia that Dora planted.

There's two trees actually here, but you only see one.

It was a 150-foot oak tree in front of this.

But even though we don't see the trunk or anything of it, the roots are still under there, nurturing not only the magnolia tree, but the pine tree, the oak tree, and probably trees all the way down the block.

So trees nurture other trees with their roots, whether they're standing where we can see them or not.

A lot of this has just shaped my identity.

I can't walk around being mad forever because this is it.

Going through ALS is it.

You don't have a second chance.

It's a death sentence.

And so what comes out at this point is just the truth.

And then as I go through my experiences understanding the kind of stock I come from being here in Mississippi and the kind of shoulders that I stand on, it helps me to craft this identity.

They don't see the Mississippi that they're accustomed to seeing when they see me.

Living here has helped me to understand that I can reshape the narrative.

(pensive music)