On social media, I try to keep it as professional as possible. I use it as a platform mainly for business and growing brand awareness of my music, while staying in touch and socializing with people that I care about. But on my site, I feel free to write about anything: music, zen, drugs, politics, short stories . . . this is where I come when I want to get personal.
The world is on fire. We’re in the midst of a global pandemic, there’s riots and protests erupting on a mass scale not seen in decades. There is a deluge of hate and toxicity online and on TV; there’s a constant cycle of fear, rage, pain, and collective human suffering. There’s a kind of helplessness that one can’t help but feel—and how one deals with that feeling is expressed in a variety of ways: from apathy, to activism, to extreme violence. While my own writing doesn’t accomplish much more than being able to articulate my thoughts on the state of the world, anyone who wants to know what I’m thinking and what I’m doing in light of current events can read it, written in what I hope is a cohesive and straightforward way.
I’ve found myself at a loss for words the past week or so, consumed and lost in the chaos. Still, I’m gathering my thoughts as I take in the daily news from various sources, contrasting angles and different viewpoints. Personally, in the midst of all that’s going on, my first priority is to stay grounded.
I’ve spent much of this quarantine gaining a deeper understanding of myself, while staying open to those who may need my help in whatever way. I’m teaching yoga and guitar lessons online (8-10 classes per week in total), sharing the importance of stillness, meditation, mindfulness, yoga, music—I’m sharing what I have to give.
I can’t tell you that meditation is the answer to all the world’s problems, but I truly believe that it is a huge part of the answer. Ultimately, the relationship and connection that we have with ourselves determines the relationship and connection that we have with everything and everyone else around us. It’s hard to effectively alleviate the pain in the world if you’re in pain. By all means, be there for others, do what you can, but make sure that taking care of yourself remains a top priority. When you’re on a plane and it starts going down, you need to put your oxygen mask on first before you start assisting other people. Otherwise you won’t be able to help, no matter how hard you try.
Moving on, this writing may get uncomfortable. I’m discussing race, white privilege, systemic racism, and other hot topic issues. I’ll state my viewpoints, try to back them up with as much logic and as little emotion as possible, and you can take it or leave it. If it makes you uneasy, take a moment and ask yourself why. I only ask that you try to stay open. I don’t have a lot of answers, but I know that for me, breakthroughs happen when I’m out of my comfort zone.
First and foremost, virtually everything that I’m touching upon in this writing has already been magnificently articulated by one of the greatest figures in history, and masterfully delivered in a way that I could never emulate—nor would I ever try to. I’m speaking of course of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., arguably the most prominent symbol of the Civil Rights movement. While his “I Have a Dream” speech is well engrained in the ethos of American History, a perhaps lesser known MLK speech is one that I’ve read recently. It’s his speech at Grosse Pointe High School - March 14, 1968. And it absolutely rocked me. I cannot overemphasize how much I recommend reading it. It’s long, but it’s one of the most profound speeches I’ve ever read; the kind of speech that can change your life and open your eyes and your heart. I feel that it’s a necessary read for understanding the struggle of black Americans, past and present. Dr. King’s words are poignant and eloquent, and they hit hard. Sadly, they resonate far too well with today’s world.
There is a great amount of suffering in America. Right now, the spotlight is on black Americans who continue to struggle under the weight of systemic racism, police killings, gun violence, and oppression. This suffering is rooted in hundreds of years of enslavement and brutality, a bloody stain on the moral compass of our nation. With this history in mind, we’ll go deeper into the concept of what is called white privilege.
White Privilege
Definition: inherent advantages possessed by a white person on the basis of their race.
There are those who deny the existence of white privilege. It’s worth noting that the vast majority of those who do are in fact white. There’s really no other way to say it: of course white privilege is real. It’s a byproduct of racism, which is also very real. It would be delusional to suggest that white privilege has never existed, because things like slavery and Jim Crow and redlining are real and at one time were completely legal. These policies encapsulate what is called institutionalized racism, which is is a form of racism expressed in the practice of social and political institutions—institutions like the US government. All of these systems laid the foundation to benefit a specific group of people.
Who did these policies benefit? White people. And who were they designed to hurt and oppress? Black people. Hence, white Americans were—and still are—the recipients of white privilege.
If someone says that they don’t believe in white privilege, ask them, “Well, do you think that during slavery, whites had more privileges than blacks?” If they say no, then probably walk away. But if they admit that this was the case, then they’ve just acknowledged the existence of white privilege. Then you can ask them about Jim Crow, and work your way up to the present day. See if they can tell you exactly when it was that white privilege stopped existing. They may not believe that it’s exists anymore, but admitting that it exists historically at least opens up the conversation a bit more.
As white privilege has historically existed, it would be misguided to think that something so engrained in America’s sociopolitical fabric has somehow dissipated and no longer exists. It’s true that policies like Jim Crow were eventually abolished and deemed unconstitutional. But the impact of these racist policies didn’t just vanish once the laws were struck down. Abolishing Jim Crow was legally symbolic, and the right thing to do, but it didn’t change the social landscape that had been created as a result of the law. It did nothing to recognize and repair the systemic racism that brought the law to pass in the first place. As a result, racism continued to run rampant; it was encouraged and perpetuated. The whites continued to benefit, while the blacks still suffered. Call it what you’d like, but it’s privilege, and it’s white. I try not to get wrapped up in semantics.
At the time of America’s founding, “the land of the free" only applied to rich white landowners. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness clearly did not extend to the blacks (and definitely not to native Americans, either). If you haven’t read Thomas Jefferson’s Notes on the State of Virginia, it is an illuminating look at one of our founding fathers, who passionately believed that blacks are biologically closer to animals, far inferior to whites; that they lack the mental and physical endowments of . . . well, just read it for yourself.
Thomas Jefferson: Notes on the State of Virginia (1781)
“The first difference which strikes us is that of colour. Whether the black of the negro resides in the reticular membrane between the skin and scarfskin, or in the scarf-skin itself; whether it proceeds from the colour of the blood, the colour of the bile, or from that of some other secretion, the difference is fixed in nature, and is as real as if its seat and cause were better known to us. And is this difference of no importance? Is it not the foundation of a greater or less share of beauty in the two races? Are not the fine mixtures of red and white, the expressions of every passion by greater or less suffusions of colour in the one, preferable to that eternal monotony, which reigns in the countenances, that immoveable veil of black which covers all the emotions of the other race? Add to these, flowing hair, a more elegant symmetry of form, their own judgment in favour of the whites, declared by their preference of them, as uniformly as is the preference of the Oranootan [Orangutan] for the black women over those of his own species. The circumstance of superior beauty, is thought worthy attention in the propagation of our horses, dogs, and other domestic animals; why not in that of man?
“ . . . I advance it therefore as a suspicion only, that the blacks, whether originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and circumstances, are inferior to the whites in the endowments both of body and mind. It is not against experience to suppose, that different species of the same genus, or varieties of the same species, may posses different qualifications. Will not a lover of natural history then, one who views the gradations in all the races of animals with the eye of philosophy, excuse an effort to keep those in the department of man as distinct as nature has formed them?
“This unfortunate difference of colour, and perhaps of faculty, is a powerful obstacle to the emancipation of these people. Many of their advocates, while they wish to vindicate the liberty of human nature, are anxious also to preserve its dignity and beauty. Some of these, embarrassed by the question 'What further is to be done with them?' join themselves in opposition with those who are actuated by sordid avarice only. Among the Romans emancipation required but one effort. The slave, when made free, might mix with, without staining the blood of his master. But with us a second is necessary, unknown to history. When freed, he is to be removed beyond the reach of mixture.”
Yep, that’s really Thomas Jefferson speaking. It’s not taken out of context, either. This is something they don’t show you in 6th grade American History class. It certainly doesn’t paint the third American president (and second American vice President) in a flattering light. If you’ve never read that, don’t feel bad—I didn’t read it until college. Jefferson’s words offer a telling example of the mindset of American racism. These abhorrent beliefs are in many ways, inherent in our nation’s DNA. It’s ugly and it’s hard to admit, but it’s true.
And no, I don’t hate America. This is not a “Fuck America!” blogpost. But this is a serious discussion that we can no longer afford to put off or gloss over. Now is the time to recognize what’s wrong with this country and make it right. It’s uncomfortable for whites to have this conversation, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have it. First we need to acknowledge the atrocities of the past. Then we can start to focus on the atrocities of the present day.
Anybody who is white and says they don’t believe in white privilege is in fact the very embodiment of white privilege. It’s like air: you can believe it doesn’t exist, but it still does, and it’s everywhere in this country whether you believe it or not. If you’re a black person, or any person of color, and you don’t believe that white privilege exists, I’m not going to tell you otherwise. That’s up to you. I know it’s real because it’s been historically documented. And I know white privilege is still alive and well because I am a present day recipient of it.
In the thirty two years that I’ve been alive, I can’t think of a single time where I’ve been judged, harassed, or discriminated against for any reason—especially not for the color of my skin. I’ve never had to take it into consideration at all. That’s privilege, whether I recognize it or not (and I do). I can’t claim to know what black people are going through. I also have no idea what brown people, gay people, trans people, minorities, women, and people with handicaps have to deal with on a daily basis. I don’t know, because I’m a white, straight, legal, American male citizen. Every door is open to me; this country fucking loves me. (Technically, I’m half latino—Nicaraguan, to be specific. I can check the “Hispanic” box as well as Caucasian on college applications. But seriously, I’m white.)
I recognize my privileges, but I also don’t hate myself for having them. Beating myself up for something that I can’t change seems counterproductive to me. It’s not my fault that I lucked out in the biological and genetic lottery of what this society deems acceptable. Instead of berating myself and playing the victim of my own privilege, I can instead choose to use it for enacting positive changes in society. I can be an ally of the black community, and help those less fortunate than I am, just as someone who recognizes their own inherent wealth can give to those who need it more. It’s not charity or pity—it’s standing up for those who are being oppressed, offering them your hand and saying, “I want you to be treated equally, because you deserve to have the same privileges that I do.” This is what humanity needs now more than ever.
Conflicting Arguments
I’m now going to outline some common conservative arguments that have become regular refrains over the years, and especially in the past few weeks. I’ll state the argument, and then I’ll try to dissect and explain why they are incorrect or misguided. I do this with as little sanctimoniousness and as much fact and reason as I can.
“All Lives Matter!”
You’re right—all lives do matter. Or at least, all lives should matter. The problem is that they really don’t. To paraphrase Charles Blow, “Of course all lives matter—the problem in this country is that black lives have not been understood to matter the same as other lives.” The whole point of Black Lives Matter is to bring attention to that disparity.
Saying Black Lives Matter is not saying that other lives do not, nor is it saying that black lives should be the only lives that matter. It’s not an exclusive expression; it’s greatest aim is to become an inclusive expression. Again, the problem is that in America black lives have never mattered as much as white lives. This is what BLM is pointing out. Hundreds of years of slavery, Jim Crow, lynchings, and redlining are just a few examples of black lives not mattering—and the myriad instances of unarmed blacks dying at the hands of police officers is another injustice demonstrating that it is still the case today. To say that All Lives Matter in response to Black Lives Matter is to miss the point entirely. It's not constructive; it dismisses the greater meaning behind the message, and instead tries to deflect in an attempt to halt any further discussion.
There’s been some pointedly accurate comparisons online to what “All Lives Matter” really sounds like:
A mother is at a funeral mourning the loss of her son. You running up and grabbing the mic and shouting “All sons matter!” would be outrageously inappropriate, insensitive, and just plain wrong. This is what it sounds like when you say All Lives Matter in response to Black Lives Matter.
Someone says they’re raising awareness for breast cancer, and you say “All diseases matter!” That’s what it sounds like when you say All Lives Matter in response to Black Lives Matter.
If a house is on fire, you try to put it out. You don’t scream “All Houses Matter!” while you soak your own non-burning house with water. That’s what it sounds like when you say All Lives Matter in response to Black Lives Matter.
When you say All Lives Matter in response to Black Lives Matter, you’re essentially saying “But what about me?!” Instead, the next time you hear someone say Black Lives Matter, try this: tell them, “You’re right. They do.”
“If black lives matter, then why are they all killing each other?”
The goal of the BLM movement is to create a country—and ultimately a world—where black lives matter and are treated with equal importance. Black on black crime is unfortunately prevalent in poor urban areas, and occurs at a higher rate than many other crimes. We as a nation need to ask ourselves why these stats are so high. Is it that “blacks are simply more prone to a culture of violence and are a lost cause?” I’ve seen this sentiment stated in various ways, from outright racist remarks to more subtle shades of shrugging it off as if to say, “Well, what do you expect? Let them kill each other off.”
This, sadly, is an all too common refrain, often accompanied by an array of statistics that are meant to show blacks’ propensity to violence and their inability to coexist with both whites and each other. In the digital age we’re living in, one can gather statistics from many sources that specifically fit a certain narrative, regardless of actual context or accuracy.
We could go down the rabbit hole of conflicting crime stats and percentages. But I resist, since those who believe in the validity of their own sources and stats are unlikely to suddenly change their mind when faced with contradictory data, and instead may get defensive and close off to any further dialogue. The goal of this writing is not to change anyone’s mind, since only the mind’s owner can make that change for themselves. My goal is to steer this dialogue in a direction that will allow differing viewpoints to better understand one another—not necessarily agree, but at least gain a little more understanding. So instead of hiding behind specific data likely meant to support our own argument and shut out everything else, let’s skip the stats war and go deeper into the question.
Once again, the conflicting argument is: “If black lives matter, then why are they all killing each other?”
Let us say that, for the sake of this argument, the data show that all black crimes are indeed much higher than any other race, in all categories across the board: black on black crime, black on white crime, gun violence, robbery, rape, grand theft auto, etc. And all of this takes place in predominately black areas.
So, is that the end of the conversation, then?
What point are you trying to make with that information? Are you saying that it’s a hopeless situation? That blacks just don’t care or know any better? Or is it that they do know better but refuse to change because they’re ungrateful and ignorant and beyond all help?
These are deeply real, deeply racist sentiments. To take a select group of people and place them all into a generalized, disparaging categorization based on race—that’s racism. If those views truly resonate with you, don’t leave. Stay with me, let’s keep talking. Instead of using the very real issue of black on black crime as an endpoint to conversation, let’s use it as a starting point.
Many are quick to point out that the violence perpetrated by blacks against their own race is staggeringly high. Much of this violence comes from the inner cities of places like Chicago and Baltimore, where a crumbling education system and a culture of broken families perpetuates a growing cycle of poverty, drugs, crime, gang affiliation, and crowded prisons, with a much higher percentage of black inmates.
How did the black community come to find itself here? It wasn’t by chance, and it wasn’t by choice. Fundamentally, it is partly due to “Redlining,” a form of systemic racism which determined (and in many ways still determines) community demographics, based solely on race. An article by Terry Gross features Richard Rothstein’s book The Color of Law, and describes what exactly took place to create these racial and economic divisions in the US:
“The term ‘redlining' ... comes from the development by the New Deal, by the federal government of maps of every metropolitan area in the country. And those maps were color-coded by first the Home Owners Loan Corp. and then the Federal Housing Administration and then adopted by the Veterans Administration, and these color codes were designed to indicate where it was safe to insure mortgages. And anywhere where African-Americans lived, anywhere where African-Americans lived nearby were colored red to indicate to appraisers that these neighborhoods were too risky to insure mortgages. It was in something called the Underwriting Manual of the Federal Housing Administration, which said that ‘incompatible racial groups should not be permitted to live in the same communities.’ Meaning that loans to African-Americans could not be insured.”
Redlining was a blatant form of modern segregation, and inevitably led to squalid and often unsustainable housing conditions for black communities. Thanks to these racist housing policies, blacks had virtually no way to improve their living situation. Over time, due in large part to lack of government support and resources, these communities became ripe for poverty, gang violence and drug use, eventually generating a higher police presence, and an increase in police profiling.
Redlining should not be the sole excuse for the current conditions of inner city black communities—but neither should we dismiss the fact that, although redlining is no longer legal, blacks today are still dealing with the repercussions of these profoundly racist policies. It’s important to recognize that the policy of redlining only ended in the 1970s. To think that the fundamental elements of redlining don’t continue to play a significant role in the struggles of the black community is deeply misguided. These are serious ramifications from systemic racism that can sustain for decades or longer.
This history helps us to understand how many of these communities first came to be. Now we can go deeper into what should be done. Only when we recognize the forces that are fueling these conditions can we begin to initiate real and lasting change. We first need to stop ignoring and denying the role that racism plays in this country. Then we may be able to offer meaningful support—something that the black community sorely lacks.
Regardless of skin color, religion, or any other characteristic, people are responsible for their own actions. I’m not excusing the black crime rate solely because they’ve been subjected to dehumanizing racism for centuries. Much of the answer does come down to personal accountability. But the situational circumstances in which one is brought up significantly determines so many crucial aspects of one’s future. And the support and resources, or lack thereof, that one has along the way is tantamount to success or failure, both personally and as a society. The black community needs urgent help from those of us who have had clear advantages in our lives—advantages that put us ahead, while they were held back. Whites can all lend support in many different ways, and in doing so, we can help each other heal from our painful past.
For specific ways you can support black lives and the Black Lives Matter movement, go here.
“But the laws have changed and aren’t racist anymore!”
Yes, slavery was abolished 1865. The racist segregation of Jim Crow is no longer lawful, nor is the policy of redlining. “My grandparents didn’t own slaves, and neither did their grandparents,” is a point I hear often. Many laws and policies have been struck down or fixed up so as to at least appear in the best interest of all races and creeds. But these policy changes just thinly cover the surface of the festering racism that is still deeply engrained in today’s society. Again, simply abolishing a law does not automatically erase the past, present, and future damage done by that law. It’s a step in the right direction, but it doesn’t solve the underlying problems that created the law in the first place. The point is that from the beginning, blacks have been at a disadvantage, and the emancipation of slavery did not solve the problem of racism in this country.
As Martin Luther King Jr stated in his Grosse Pointe High speech in 1968:
". . . To have freed the negro from slavery without doing anything to get him started in life on a sound economic footing, it was almost like freeing a man who had been in prison many years and you had discovered that he was unjustly convicted of, that he was innocent of the crime for which he was convicted and you go up to him and say now you're free, but you don't give him any bus fare to get to town or you don't give him any money to buy some clothes to put on his back or to get started in life again. Every code of jurisprudence would rise up against it. This is the very thing that happened to the black man in America.”
Seriously, read his speech. If there’s one takeaway from all this, read his speech. All of it. The issues still remain. Ending slavery did not free the slaves; instead, the chains of enslavement simply transformed into a different sort of oppression, one that still plagues this nation today.
What about Obama? We can’t be racist because we elected a black man!
Some people point out that we can’t be a racist nation, because we elected a black man as our president. They say this as though eight years of the Obama administration somehow makes up for the centuries of horrendous abuses and evils of slavery, segregation, and the systematic oppression of black Americans. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy.
Obama’s presidency was indeed a symbolic and important change in America’s history, but two terms of the Obama administration could never uproot and transform all of the racism that has plagued the United States for hundreds of years. Was it a powerful and significant move in the right direction? Yes. Did it absolve America for the sins of its past? Not even close. It took centuries to bring us to where we are as a nation, and the goal of coming to terms with our past and creating a better, more equal future will take much longer than eight years. I’ll do my best to ensure that it happens in my lifetime.
This idea that electing Obama wipes clean the slate of our nation’s original sin of slavery and cancels out racism is woefully ignorant. It is merely a bandaid to place upon the gaping wound of the guilt that America has accumulated and continues to accumulate.
“I don’t see color.”
Once again, I’ve only heard this phrase uttered by white people. People who say that they don’t see color are unknowingly showing their privilege of never having to take the issue of skin color into personal consideration. An actual person of color who has found himself harassed by police, profiled and subjected to racism, has to see skin color as being relevant in his life, whether he likes it or not. If you say you don’t see color, no matter how good your intentions may be, it says that you believe that skin color is not an issue, and therefore we are all currently equal in America. Unfortunately, that’s not the case, and it has never been the case. “Not seeing color” is the unconscious perpetuation of sweeping racism under the rug, while trying to sound like a “good person.” Racism in this country instead needs to be exposed and brought to light. We all need to see color in order to recognize the disparities between whites and blacks, and understand what needs to change. When America becomes a place where skin color truly isn’t an issue, then we can all be “colorblind.” Until then, open your eyes.
“There’s only one race—the HUMAN race!”
Yes, you are correct. We are all part of the human race. And wouldn’t it be nice if certain members of the human race were not subjected to oppression and killed because of the color of their skin? This phrase is an empty one that doesn’t do anything about the actual problem of racism. Again, it implies that because we’re all technically one human race, there’s nothing that needs to be done—we’re already equals. Saying that we’re all one race may sound inclusive, but all it does is shrug off the inequities of minorities and people of color. If you had been oppressed and enslaved for hundreds of years, you might reconsider the statement: “Yes, we’re all part of the same human race—so why have we been exploited and beaten down so severely (literally and metaphorically) for centuries?” The problem is that we can say that we’re all the same race, but as humans, we sure don’t act like it.
You can’t criticize America!
Of course I can! That’s one of the best parts about this place. But don’t leave, let’s keep talking.
There are those that have a tendency to view America in an all-or-nothing kind of mentality. Either you love this country one hundred percent and consider it a flawless nation, or you hate it entirely and you’re a traitor who should move to another country. I think it’s a little more complicated and nuanced than that. Somewhere between blind jingoism and an all-consuming hatred for America lies the potential to actually create a better future and a better country. Does America have an ugly racist past? Definitely. Is it still prevalent today? Sadly, yes. Does that mean that everything about America will always be inherently evil? I don’t think so. I think there’s opportunity here for change and unity.
There’s a sharp contrast between the ideals of freedom and liberty that America claims to embody, and how those ideals actually manifest in reality. Taking in the good aspects and opportunities that this country has to offer, while also recognizing the faults and injustices that continue to challenge us, can give you a more balanced perspective. Views that stay on the extreme sides of the spectrum will never be able to meet in the middle. There will always be “the other side” in sociopolitical opinion, and to think that you can simply annihilate that side of the conversation is dangerously naive. Generating equilibrium in your life helps to lay the foundation for real development, and you can do it without totally compromising your beliefs.
“But George Floyd was a criminal!”
It is true that George Floyd was a convicted criminal. He had various drug and theft charges, including theft with a firearm. He was sentenced to 5 years in prison for assault and robbery, during which he held a pregnant woman at gunpoint, at times pointing the gun at her stomach. He was also alleged to be high on methamphetamine and fentanyl at the time of his last arrest, which was on a charge of using a counterfeit bill. Some media outlets never released this info, while other outlets focus almost exclusively on Floyd’s rap sheet.
These facts can create a more complicated picture of Floyd as a person, but it doesn’t change the main message behind the protests and riots following his murder. Regardless of personal history, Floyd did not deserve to die at the hands of police officers.
Some feel that even though Floyd was murdered unjustifiably, due to his history he should not be portrayed as a martyr. They feel he’s a poor representation of the BLM movement. Regardless, the outrage surrounding Floyd’s public police execution is what lit the fuse for the historical uprising that we are now currently experiencing. While Floyd’s criminal history is indeed disturbing, it is ultimately irrelevant to the BLM movement, because even the most despised criminal in America has the right to a trial; they are innocent until proven guilty, and above all, they have the right to live and not be murdered by the arresting officers. Floyd has become representative of the far too many black citizens that have been unjustifiably murdered by our nation’s police force.
It’s also important to recognize that George Floyd didn’t choose to be the face of the movement. He had no say in the matter because he was murdered by a group of people who were sworn to protect and defend him. It is the people, the news, and social media that have made him a figure. Some of the most influential people in history have had complicated pasts—to put it mildly. George Floyd, regardless of his record, has become a powerful symbol of structural change that has been long overdue. If you want to make him a martyr of the movement, fine. If not, then don’t. Either way, the message of BLM still stands, and demands action and change.
To bring up Floyd’s criminal history is to try to move the conversation in a different direction, one that is intended to undermine the greater goals of the BLM movement. It insinuates that he either deserved what happened him, or that he does not deserve the amount of outrage following his death. This underscores victim shaming and seeks to delegitimize the overall message of Black Lives Matter, which is to stop killing black people.
What can I do to show black lives matter?
History has shown us that the wheels of social justice move at a glacial pace. It often takes action on a revolutionary scale to push forward and create more momentum. We are seeing that revolution in real time—and there’s plenty you can do to be involved and active in the movement. Whether it’s protesting, donating time or money, supporting black businesses, having conversations with your friends and family to raise awareness, attending local city council meetings, getting involved in community legislation, writing letters to your city and state representatives, or running for office, what matters most is that you’re doing something. And if you choose not to do any of those things, at least vote. For the love of God, please VOTE.
One of the most important things that you can do right now is listen. Listen to the voices of the oppressed, stay open, and see what they have to say. Then ask how you can help. First listen, then act. Here’s some ways to get started.
Right now we’re witnessing the foundation of American society shifting and breaking apart as we seek to fundamentally reshape the American dream into one that is truly inclusive; an America that lives up to its promise of freedom and justice for all, including blacks. As Dr. King said, “The destinies of white and black America are intertwined.” Let’s make this a world where black lives matter as much as any other life. It will bring us closer as a nation, and we can strive together for a world where all lives truly matter.