What if we just let the mask of the shaman drop and reveal our own true depth? And the depth of our own displacement as human beings?
She carried me, bones and flesh, as best she could with no one left to hold her. She did her best to create the we from the tattered, broken I-ndividualism.
White people can empathize with this terrifying reality. But we cannot be inside the lived reality that forms for a Black man when the police approach.