The tire became a metaphor for blackness in my mind. Both the black person and the black experience. The tire represented at its most simple, the skin, and then the more I sat with the tire, the more I delved into the connotations that I was making with this new medium. The tire began to represent police brutality and modern-day lynching during traffic stops. It represented the value and commodity of the black body that is still present to this day. It represented the generational scars and trauma that continue cyclically throughout time. It represented the struggle of being told that your worth is decided by how much you can do for someone else, and when that deed is done, you are thrown away. It represented the strength and persistence to carry on. To continue moving through life even though the tread wears out the more you go. The tire became a metaphor for blackness in my mind, and from then on every tire had a life.