Sincerely, A Privileged, Middle-Class White Girl

Dear People of Color,

I wish I could say this is OUR America we live in. This is OUR land, land of the brave, home of the free. I wish I could say I am proud of the America we’ve built together.

But I don’t think My America is the same as Your America. And I’m sorry for that.

I’m sorry I’ve claimed we’re all equal, even though my biggest fear when I get pulled over is if I’m going to get a ticket or not.

I’m sorry I’ve claimed we’re all equal, even though the average black household income is $15,000 less than the average white family. The percentage of black families living below the poverty line is more than double that of white families, and same for the unemployment rate.

I’m sorry I’ve claimed we’re all equal, even though 1 in every 15 black men are incarcerated, compared to 1 in 106 white men. People of color are 3 times more likely to be searched during a traffic stop than white people, twice as likely to be arrested, and 4 times as likely to experience the use of force during encounters with the police.

I’m sorry people like me have erased your experience by saying all lives matter. Yes, of course we all know all lives do, in fact, matter. But we are MISSING 👏🏻 THE 👏🏻 POINT 👏🏻. My life has never been in jeopardy because I chose to walk down the street or knock on a neighbor’s door or stand in my grandmother’s back yard or pull my phone out of my pocket in public.

I’m sorry people like me look scared when you walk into a store with your hands in your pockets, or with a hat on, or don’t make eye contact, or just simply walk in.

I’m sorry you have to teach your children how to walk down the street, how to walk into a public place, how to exist. I’m sorry you have to teach them that when a police officer approaches them – or even looks their direction – they are to show their empty hands, as a show of innocence. I’m sorry you have to have those conversations with them.

I’m sorry the only black names we know are Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks and Ruby Bridges and Harriet Tubman, but we so quickly forget names like Rayshard Brooks, who was shot twice in the back, or Atatiana Jefferson, who was shot in her home, or Stephon Clark, who was shot at more than 20 times while standing in his grandmother’s back yard because the police mistook his cell phone for a gun. (And so many others like them.)

I’m sorry for the way people like me have told you to “leave the past in the past” – asking you to forget about your ancestry and where you’ve come from, the chains which bound your not-so-distant relatives and the whips that cracked across their backs. I’m sorry for my ignorance, as I’ve judged you for holding onto something that “didn’t even happen to you, or even in your lifetime.”

I’m sorry for what My America has done to you. I’m sorry for the gap that exists between us. I’m sorry there’s not more I can do to change it.

But there’s NOT nothing I can do. There is always something.