White Woman

Like a lot of white people, I have been affected by the George Floyd murder and its aftermath. Indeed, for several years many whites like myself have come to better understand the bitter harvest our country has endured due to racism.

One thing, however, remains true. I may sympathize with what people of color have suffered in my country. I may be sorry when I think of our history. However, when I go out the next day or even the next hour to the store or walk the streets, in most places I can forget about my color. I don’t carry in my skin the color that the person passing me in the street or serving me in the store will likely note.

Most of the time, I don’t think about my skin color or how it may affect those who deal with me.

Not so, the person of color who walks into a store or jogs or shows up for a job interview. Blacks can, I suppose, be themselves in some neighborhoods, often the poorer ones, or in their churches, or in a few other places.

Most of the time, however, people of color know they are noted because their skin is not white. They can rarely forget about their skin color when they leave home, as I can the knowledge of my skin color.

“Black lives matter” is stressed not because people of color matter more than others. It is stressed because their lives haven’t mattered like white lives.

The emphasis will no longer be needed the day we can all leave home without thinking about the color of our skin.

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