I'll never know what it's like to be brown.
I'm sarcastic. A bit of a misanthrope. Politically unhinged. Knuckle tattoos. Nearly everything that makes someone an "other." But, my skin color lets me get through the day without much struggle. I've been singled out. Chased. Had a gun in my face. But I walked, or ran, and lived to be a jerk another day. I'm, honestly, not a great person most of the time. I can't change the way my mind works, but I can hide behind being white, and some semblance of middle class. I've been in situations that should have ended with a bullet in my chest. But, I'm privileged to have stayed alive.
I take pleasure in social chaos, because I know it's not about me. As much as I support violent political action, I know that my personal risk is little. I may get thrown in jail, but I'll also get to go home.
I don't harbor any misplaced guilt about the life I was given, but I feel sadness for my brothers and sisters who don't have the luxury to be who they are. Whether, black, brown, gay, trans, or any other "Other," I get to mouth off and be whoever I want - because I know I'll make it home. Many of you don't have that luxury. Pulled over for a tail light? Other than cops making me nervous, I have nothing to worry about. I'll pay a $50 fine, and go about my day. Some of my friends have to worry if this is the time they don't make it home.
I can't change the world, or the way it works. It's not for me to lead the fight - because I have nothing to lose. Tell me what you need, and how I can help. Because, although I'd love to throw a molotov cocktail, this isn't about me. All I can say to my friends in this struggle comes from a child: "I'm right here with you." I can't finish the quote, because I don't know if it'll be OK, but I hope it will. Hope for you is, sadly, all I got.
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