My older brother Brandon never took it easy on me, either. If neighborhood kids were going to physically bully me and harass me, Brandon was going to be that much harder on me with the goal of preparing me to defend myself. One day he came home with some boxing gloves, took me in the backyard and knocked me down. He would yell at me to “get up” I would, and he would knock me down again. I would tell Brandon I couldn’t get up again because he was too big, and too strong for me. Brandon would say I don’t care who stands in your way, you fight until you can’t fight anymore.”’ In 2012, I loss Brandon to gun violence. His sudden death broke me, angered me, and caused depression. I struggled with my loss. Boxing turned in to my coping mechanism.