I'm a kid from Nacogdoches.

The only way you're going to make it is to have a hunger for success and a will to win. That's something that's always pushed me.

I never really thought of myself as a captain. I always thought of myself as a guy trying to win games, a guy who could look back and have no regrets.

I got to experience being captain in the World Cup. For me, that was something special, and I'll always kind of remember, but it's never been a big thing for me to be captain.

Pressure brings the best out of people, or it can bring the worst out. It's just how you use it.

The most important thing is the time you spend with the coach and what you all achieve.

For a number of years, I struggled and put distance between God and me. But He was faithful and patient and provided gradual healing and strength.

Now my faith in Christ is what gives me confidence for the future. I know that through both good times and bad, He is faithful and will watch over me.

I play to the best of my abilities and am thankful for the many opportunities and amazing success He has given me. Through it all, I want to do right, not make mistakes, and live a life that is pleasing to Him.

I have a lot of great memories of playing in Dallas as a kid, and I'm proud to represent Nacogdoches.

It's always great to be home and play in front of family and friends, especially for a big game.

In college, I joined a team Bible study. God's Word brought me peace and a desire for a relationship with Him.

This idea of shared humanity and the connections that we make with one another - that's what, in fact, makes life worth living.

We tend to think of racism as this interpersonal verbal or physical abuse, when in truth, that is only one way that racism manifests itself. The reality of contemporary racism is that it while it is ubiquitous, it is often invisible, subsequently making it more difficult to name and identify.

Empathy should not be contingent on our proximity to suffering or the likelihood of it happening to us. Rather, it should stem from a disdain that suffering is happening at all.

Silence is the residue of fear.

A cage that allows someone to walk around inside of it is still a cage.

When we say that black lives matter, it's not because others don't: it's simply because we must affirm that we are worthy of existing without fear, when so many things tell us we are not.

We spend so much time listening to the things people are saying that we rarely pay attention to the things they don't.

The death penalty not only takes away the life of the person strapped to the table - it takes away a little bit of the humanity in each of us.

In an effort to create a culture within my classroom where students feel safe sharing the intimacies of their own silences, I have four core principles posted on the board that sits in the front of my class, which every student signs at the beginning of the year: read critically, write consciously, speak clearly, tell your truth.

I want to live in a world where my son will not be presumed guilty the moment he is born, where a toy in his hand isn't mistaken for anything other than a toy.

Oppression doesn't disappear just because you decided not to teach us that chapter.

Who has to have a soapbox when all you've ever needed is your voice?

Education is a human right - a recognition of dignity that each person should be afforded.

If you only hear one side of the story, at some point, you have to question who the writer is.

My parents raised me and my siblings in an armor of advice, an ocean of alarm bells so someone wouldn't steal the breath from our lungs, so that they wouldn't make a memory of this skin.

The history of racial violence in our country is both omnipresent and unspoken. It is a smog that surrounds us that few will admit is there.

It is easy not to support the death penalty when there is doubt about the culpability of the person sitting in the chair; it is harder to sustain such principles when the crime of the accused is morally indefensible.

Those who support the death penalty are accepting a practice that is both ineffective and fundamentally flawed.

The beauty of the World Cup is that while thirty-two countries get to cheer for their respective teams, the event also affirms a global pluralism - it is as much a festival of cultural multiplicity as it is a competition featuring some of the best athletes in the world.

To be an Arsenal fan is to convince yourself that you can no longer support a team that disappoints you, only to be drawn back in by the ever-flickering promise of something better.

There is a solidarity that black people can find in celebrating the athletic success of our own, especially in sports where our existence is sparse.

The presidents and the founding fathers and all of the people we sort of raise up as false idols, we don't wrestle with the fact that many of these were brilliant men, but they were also men with deep prejudices against people of color, against indigenous people, against women.

When you sing that this country was founded on freedom, don't forget the duet of shackles dragging against the ground my entire life.

Sometimes a poem should just be about a girl jumping rope. It doesn't have to be something that is imbued with more despair.

When the U.S. team went on its historic run to the World Cup quarter-finals in 2002, I was thirteen years old. Each game in that run - the astonishing victory against Portugal, the resilient win over Mexico, even the gutsy but unlucky effort against the Germans - propelled me to push my other athletic interests aside and focus only on soccer.

When the residue of oppression and fear are compounded over time, when the historical precedents of policing and discrimination manifest themselves over and over again, the very act of waking up to a world complicit in your distress can feel like a herculean task. But black people are human beings, just like everyone else.

With 'Black Panther,' black artists were provided with the opportunity and agency to create art that captures the full range of their imaginative possibilities. It matters that Chadwick Boseman is the protagonist and is supported by a cast of nearly all black characters.

Young people are constantly absorbing - through media, textbooks, and policy - the myths of American exceptionalism; for black children, this means that what they are taught in class does not match the world that they navigate daily.

So often, our sporting allegiances are shaped by family tradition, passed down like heirlooms.

Schools shouldn't have to choose between serving a student with special needs or cutting an art class, laying off teachers or using outdated textbooks. But these are the positions that far too many schools have been placed in, and only a meaningful acknowledgment of the problem can begin the process of getting them out.

'A Talk to Teachers' showed me that a teacher's work should reject the false pretense of being apolitical and, instead, confront the problems that shape our students' lives.

The benefits of prison education go beyond lowering recidivism rates and increasing post-release employment. It can also rekindle a sense of purpose and confidence.

Blackness remains the coat you can't take off.

Our entire lives, we're inundated with media and messaging that tells us that to be incarcerated is to be criminal and to be criminal is to be a bad person.

Living under the perpetual and pervasive threat of racism seems, for black men and black women, to quite literally reduce lifespans.

I've been writing poetry seriously since about 2008, 2009.

Abolition seemed a fantasy when Frederick Douglass called for all slaves to be released.

The most important and brave thing someone can do, I think, in the face of dehumanization, is to continue to assert their humanity.