Driving While Black On Interstate I-16 in Georgia

Looking through old yahoo emails and came across an account I had of being profiled when ‪#‎drivingwhileblack‬ when I lived in Savannah. It’s scary to think that the same events that lead to ‪#‎SandraBlands‬ unlawful arrest and untimely death was the same manor in which I was treated. I remember asking the officer who was white why I had to get out of my car for a speeding violation and him ignoring me. He kept ignoring me. I asked was he going to shoot me and he responded are you going to give me a reason? I thought I would die on some back rd in Georgia, but I’m alive and able to share this story and I wrote a poem about it ‪#‎blacklivesmatter‬.

On Monday, February 6, 2006 6:00 PM, Gracie Berry <gulukspy99@yahoo.com> wrote:
At approximately 4:15pm, on Monday February 6, 2006 I was traveling to Savannah, GA on Interstate I-16 from Atlanta, GA. I spent the weekend in Atlanta searching checking out employment oppurtunities, and life in Atlanta, GA. I began my journey to Atlanta, GA, on Friday February 3, 2006. While traveling on I-16 to Savannah, GA a cop followed me without any lights for approximately 15-20 seconds. He finally put the vehicle lights on and I immediately pulled over on the left side of the road. I pulled over on the left side of the road because I was not aware that he wanted to stop me. As I put my car in Park officers Sewyer, badge number 982 stepped out of his vehicle, told me to pull of the road atleast. I pulled over more to the left, and he told me tp put my car in park. He commenced to peer in my vehicle as if looking for something. He said I waas going 91 miles per hour in a 70 mile per hour zone. Prier to officer Sewyer pulling me over I had music on loud, andwas traveling to Savannah, GA. I was not aware of the decrease in speed of 21 miles per hour over the speed limit. I quickly told him honestly that I did not realize I was going 21 miles per hour over the speed limit. He stated thats what alot of people say. He commenced to ask me a series of questions inlcuding questions about my drivers license, the year and make of my vehicle, and where I was traveling from. I was not sure why he asked me several questions. Instead of taking my drivers license to his vehicle and checking for validity he told me to step out of my car.
Upon him demanding me to get out of my vehicle I remained calm, and orderly. I immediately became physically and verbally defensive by placing my hands in my pocket for comfort, and asking why do I have to get out of my vehicle. He did not choose to answer the question I asked. I wondered in my mind if I was being pulled over for a speeding violation why would I need to step out of my vehicle. He commenced to tell me to follow him to the back of my vehicle. I thought that something was wrong with my vehicle by the paculiar tone in which he coaxed me. As I followed him to the rear of my vehicle he asked me what was I doing? I had my wallet in my hand, and was trying to find my insurance card. I then put my wallet in one hand, and my other hand in my pocket for comfort. He asked me to take my hand out of my pocket, and I did immediately. He said what are you trying to hide. I said nothing, and that I did not feel comfortabale with what was happening. I asked him again why I had to get out of my vehicle. He refused to answer my question. He commenced to tell me to put my hand on the vehicle after I complied with removing my hand from my pocket. I stated that I was very scared, and for him to explain what is going on. He refused to tell me what was going on. At this point I was not calm and I began to cry, and I told him that I was very scared. He asked me if I was going to comply and I said no because I already complied with what he asked of me. He grabbed my arm firmly and commenced to put hand cuffs on me stating that he needed to check what was in my pockets.

Gracie “Thee Amazing Grace” Berry

Mindfulness, Symbols, and Self-Discovery by Gracie Nicole Berry-TheeAmazingGrace

This morning I came across a post from a friend holding up a t-shirt with a swastika on it. The caption read, “Dope shirt from @spiritualpunx.” A woman in the comments was clearly hurt and began expressing her pain and anger at seeing that symbol.

I know the friend who posted it personally, and I can say with confidence there was no hateful intent behind their actions. They’ve recently been exploring the spiritual and cultural origins of the swastika—long before it was co-opted by the Nazi regime. But witnessing that woman’s reaction made me pause.

It reminded me just how deeply trauma can be triggered by symbols, even when intentions are pure. That friend is on a journey of self-discovery, but may not have fully considered how others—especially those still healing—might be impacted.

So I felt called to share this reflection, both as a creative and as a person of Afrikan descent:


I know how jarring and painful it is to see symbols that have been used to oppress and terrorize our people. I extend my deepest empathy to anyone affected by the Nazi regime’s hateful use of the swastika. I honor your pain. I honor your ancestors.

A few years ago, I experienced something that helped me deeply understand the emotional weight of such symbols. I’d seen too many Confederate flags flying boldly on trucks and clothing, often accompanied by hostile stares and threatening energy. One day, I asked a man why he displayed the flag. He looked me in the eye, called me the N-word, and told me he didn’t owe me anything. In that moment, it was painfully clear—his intent was rooted in hate, not heritage.

That experience stayed with me. But instead of shrinking, I decided to reclaim my power.

While thrifting one day, I found an old lunch pail that had a Confederate flags all over it. I purchased it—not as a keepsake, but as a social experiment. I wanted to test how people reacted when a Black person carried that symbol—and I wanted to flip its meaning by adding context and truth.

I taped a note to the front that read:

“Over 250,000 Black soldiers fought in the Civil War—including my grandfather, who fought at the Battle of Shiloh.”

The quote was from a young Black army veteran about his grandfather’s time in the service. The goal wasn’t to glorify the symbol, but to reclaim space—educate, disrupt, and start conversations. I wanted to challenge the default narratives surrounding these symbols and show that we are not passive victims of their false sense of power.

That moment was transformational for me. I realized that I had agency in how these symbols affected me—but I also recognize that not everyone is in that place of reclamation or experimentation. And especially when these symbols appear in public spaces, we must approach them with care, because people are still hurting.


To my friend: I know your heart. But when we engage with symbols that carry violent legacies, we must be intentional. We must educate ourselves and others. We must lead with care and humility.

Reclaiming and redefining symbols is a powerful part of growth. But it doesn’t erase the generational trauma many carry. We need to clarify our intentions, open up space for dialogue, and support those still navigating their wounds.

As a community educator, creative, and revolutionary, it’s my responsibility to move with integrity. That means offering context, practicing transparency, and always centering empathy. We don’t just post for aesthetics—we post with awareness and purpose.


If you’re curious about the deeper origins of the swastika, this article helped me begin to understand its sacred roots across many cultures:

 The True Origins of the Swastika

Let’s stay educated. Let’s stay compassionate. And let’s be accountable to one another.

One Love,
TheeAmazingGrace 

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Bird Poop

I can’t escape encounters with birds-they poop on me and my things and sing about it lol! This evening a ‪#‎BlueJay‬ flew on the patio and landed on the table. The cats went bazerk and scared her off. That didn’t stop her. She kept flying into the yard getting as close as she could to me. As a child I remember the Blue Jay being important. Come to find out the Cherokee people believe that Blue Jays mean royalty, energy, and enthusiasm. And that when Blue Jay medicine grabs your attention it is asking you to embrace your God-given assets. Blue Jay reminds you that when you walk into a room, you do not have to call attention to yourself because you already have the worlds attention, all you have to do is respond to it. Wow, That was spot on! I didn’t capture her face good lol! -Thee Amazing Grace #theeamazinggrace #gracieberry

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Throw Back Thursday :)

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#‎tbt‬ i remember exactly where i stood-in the living-room, next to the french doors in my apartment on e. clay st. it was hot in the early summer of #2010. i had just turned 30 in march of that year and was having defeating thoughts about aging and he always made me feel ageless and beautiful. he was brilliant. he captured the parts of me that i valued less at that time and made me love them. thank you for that.
‪#‎theartist‬ was ‪#‎oncemylover‬ and is ‪#‎myfriend‬

-Thee Amazing Gracie

Eff Playing Hard to Get By Thee Amazing Grace

I think the major problem I have with dating is the whole, “play hard to get” vibe. If we digging each other why are we “playing” aside from pleasuring each other? I don’t overstand. Like my homegirl Kim Katrin Milan said, “if you love them at 4am text them and tell them.” I don’t want to hold back how I feel just because of what society tells me is “normal” timing in relationships. I want to reach out when I feel it without fear that I’m being annoying or pushing one away. We know what it is and most know what we want, so yea…I don’t need 9 inch nails in my glitter. I need more glitter. Attractive & honest vibes come to me. -Thee Amazing Grace #gracieberryIMG_7614

Closure Is Mine-Really by Thee Amazing Grace

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In my youth I needed closure from everyone I felt hurt by. It was so intense that I would spend countless hours and days drafting letters trying to convince them that the “only” way I could “move on” was through the many ways they could give me closure.

As I’m aging, I realize that those things weren’t for them, but for me. They served as excuses to keep them around or to get their attention in hopes of changing the hurt. I’m learning that closure is mine-really.

This is not to say that I don’t experience hurt feelings from unresolved issues, but I’m more aware now than ever that it is not anyones responsibility to give me closure. Also that the discomfort is normal. We can choose how we move on which is priceless in our own healing. One love to those.

—TheeAmazingGrace ♥️

#afrikanface #closureisminereally #girlrillavintage #girlrillainspiration #theeamazinggrace

About Him by Thee Amazing Grace

I’m picking myself apart for you. I’ve been crying on an off for days. My heart feels like a heavy wet rag just sitting on top of a sink. I can feel the sun and see that it is beautiful and bright outside, but I don’t want to go outside to catch a glimpse. No one’s words are comforting, not even your own. I ask questions I know answers too. You got me wanting to cast a voodoo spell just to get your attention. I wanted to free your loins that so far have been in chains, enslaved. I can feel it from your walk as if you’re carefully walking a tight rope. I could feel your heart beating and your eyes shifting when I came close to face. I wanted what I did and that is fact. Never felt the vengeance of this type of rejection. Never had my heart broken so beautifully-you brought forth the spirit of my ancestors and I was humble for it, yet I was sad for my own hands that only wanted to lift your thighs back and suck for dear life between your legs-brush my breast up against. I only wanted to sound my sweet moans in your ears like secret melodic, high pitch verses, echoing off the walls. I only wanted to kiss gentle and rough. I dreamt of your weighted hips crashing into mine from behind places. I fantasized waking up in heated sweat with your length stretched the distance to hold me. I tear up because I’m in lust with you. I had unfinished business that never got the chance to bloom. I feel sick and incapable of seeing clearly. I don’t want to see clearly. I want to see you. I want to see your brown and ancient body, masculine, insecurity on top of my my soft shake, strength like walls that fold down over, only when you enter. My sadness is lust and I want out-its driving me to think and think and think and think. Turn me off.

-Thee Amazing Grace #theeamazinggrace #girlrillavintage #gracieberry

On Heartbreak From “Nice” People

Honestly, when I’m in the vortex of heartache I really don’t want to be understanding toward the person breaking my heart “beautifully”. Just because they’re letting me down nicely and have good intentions doesn’t mean that my pain or disbelief is invalid. It feels disingenuous, like I’m sacrificing my soul just to be understanding and or accommodating to them. Frankly, the shit hurts and that’s all I care to express. -thee amazing grace #theemazinggrace #girlrillavintage #gracieberry