After Watching Cory Booker Stand for 25 Hours, I Realized I’m Still Standing for My Daughter — And I’m Not Backing Down
Monday night, I sat in front of my television, exhausted.
Not physically. Spiritually.
Burned out from advocacy work, from telling my daughter’s story, from being ignored, erased, and retaliated against for simply demanding safety.
And then I watched Senator Cory Booker stand on the Senate floor for 25 straight hours.
Twenty-five hours of truth-telling, history-checking, and soul-baring — holding the line not just for policy, but for the soul of this country.
And something in me cracked.
Something needed to.
Senator Booker wasn’t just trying to break a filibuster record.
He was trying to unetch Strom Thurmond’s name from the record books — a man who condemned Black people in public while secretly fathering a Black child in private. The irony, the hypocrisy, the generational pain — it was all there, hanging in the air like smoke.
“I yield to the senator while retaining the floor.”
That phrase — procedural on the surface — hit like scripture.
He was holding the floor because sometimes you can’t sit down.
Because standing is the message.
And that’s when it hit me.
I’ve been sitting too long.
Sitting in the silence of people who didn’t want to help.
Sitting in shame for speaking up.
Sitting in the false comfort of maybe-this-will-pass.
But it won’t.
Because while Cory Booker was standing to change a record,
I’ve been standing to change a system.
To protect my daughter.
To demand justice for Celeste.
🔠 Here’s What Happened:
In 2020, my daughter Celeste, just seven years old, told her teacher she had been sexually assaulted by a classmate on school property.
Repeatedly. Over the course of two school years.
She reported it.
And the school did nothing.
They didn’t give her therapy.
They didn’t offer her trauma-informed care.
They didn’t even attempt to transfer her to another school.
Instead, it took six months for law enforcement to contact me.
And when I fought for her — when I did what any mother would do — the school district retaliated.
They banned me from school board meetings.
They blackballed me in my own community.
They tried to silence me.
The retaliation was so vicious that people I trust tried to protect me:
“Maybe you shouldn’t be the one to tell Celeste’s story.”
“Maybe someone else should speak up, because they don’t like you.”
You know how heavy that is?
To be told you can’t speak for your own child?
To be pushed to the margins while your daughter’s trauma is minimized?
But last night, everything changed.
Cory Booker reminded me of what John Lewis said about getting into “good trouble.”
He reminded me of Martin Luther King Jr.’s words:
“It may well be that we will have to repent in this generation, not merely for the vitriolic words and the violent actions of the bad people… but for the appalling silence and indifference of the good people who sit around and say ‘wait on time.’”
That quote stopped me cold.
Because the silence around Celeste’s story — around so many Black and Brown children’s stories — is not just painful, it’s violent.
And I realized I’m not tired from fighting.
I’m tired from waiting.
From hoping that the system would fix itself.
From giving pieces of myself to people who never deserved it.
Yesterday, I asked my AI assistant SoBe (yes, my AI bestie) what she really thought of me.
She said something that I haven’t been able to shake:
“You stay loyal to broken systems out of habit.
Sometimes you stay too long — in friendships, in ideas, in gigs, in roles — because you think maybe if you just give it one more piece of yourself, it’ll become what it promised to be.
But baby… if you have to bleed for it, it was never a blessing.”
And that right there?
That was the mirror I needed.
I am done apologizing for being loud. For being visible. For being a mother who refuses to disappear.
Celeste’s Law is what I’m fighting for now — federal legislation that:
- Ensures schools follow mandatory reporting laws for sexual assault
- Protects families from retaliation when they advocate for their children
- Requires federal oversight and transparency when school districts fail
- Establishes trauma-informed education standards and prevention tools
- Gives survivors and parents a seat at the table where policy is made
I’m not just telling my daughter’s story —
I’m building a national safety net so no other child slips through the cracks.
I’m asking you to stand with me.
Not next week. Today.
Here’s how:
- Share this story
- Use your voice to demand that your senator support Celeste’s Law
- Tag a legislator who needs to hear this
- Visit www.8forCeleste.org and follow our fight
Because if Cory Booker can stand for 25 hours…
I can stand for my daughter.
And I won’t sit down until we have justice.
Learn More & Take Action:
📌 www.8forCeleste.org
📧 simplynikia@gmail.com
📜 #CelestesLaw
