1) I remember being INCENSED the first time I saw black football players kneeling at football games. Incensed.

My love of country and my place of privilege never allowed me to consider that there could possibly be anything but freedom for all.

2) I scoffed at those who defended an action that I saw as indefensible and ignorant and unpatriotic.

I lived in a bubble. Albeit a comfortable one. For me. And then I began to become a little more aware. A prickle of discomfort.

3) I began to read things I hadn’t been exposed to previously. I began to explore history I had never been taught. Outside of a very whitewashed version. And the prick of discomfort turned into a crater of shame for being so arrogant.

4) There was so much I didn’t know that I didn’t know. I’m still learning. I’m often left bewildered and frustrated - wondering at what can be done. And I may not be able to change the whole of humanity. But I can influence people like me.

5) Who, in their arrogant ignorance, know far less than they think they do. But are not beyond hope.

So what do we do?? We tell the stories. Humanize the people who history deemed not human. And we do it relentlessly. At the risk of losing friends.