2020.

2020.

I’m writing this because we can’t go through another breaking point. We are already broken. There is talk that our cities will never recover right now—and that’s a terrifying thought—but I worry more about the people of the cities, the people of suburbs, and the people of rural towns. My neighbors in Brewerytown are terrified. We spent time yesterday to talk about the protests and the wake of the events that are still unfolding before us in Philadelphia.

We talked about George Floyd, about cops, about riots, and looting, and then we talked about white skin, black skin, and the color we both bleed. And then I listened.

I listened as a mother and daughter talked about their fears of destruction plowing through our neighborhood at night, about how heartbreaking it is to have been silenced to the point where some feel the need to break out. I listened as another woman was visibly shaken over the idea of armed national guardsmen storming up our street. I listened because I’ve been heard for my entire life and not everyone has.

Continue reading “2020.”