"I guess I don’t know the answers. I don’t know where this will go, and I don’t know exactly what my place is.
But what I do know is that the blurring of lines and the indulgence in an endless circle of complexity can be a way to justify inactivity, to stay stuck, to indirectly protect the status quo. I know that behind the complexity of the situation also lies something perfectly simple: another black youth has been shot and killed by cops in a society where that is not an aberration but the norm, where mass incarceration is the new Jim Crow, where the crises of today are part of a brutal history of white supremacy inextricably bound with patriarchy and capitalism. I know that most white people stayed home when Newark was put down by tanks and Black Panthers were murdered by cops as they slept. I know that wasn’t so long ago, and I know it can happen again.
And I know that the most defining mark of privilege is the ability to walk away. Not all of us can walk away, and for those of us who can, confronting our privilege — to the extent that it is possible — means deciding to stay in the struggle.
That doesn’t necessarily mean we all have to drop what we’re doing and run to protest in East Flatbush. It’s not only about going or not going; it’s about engaging and finding points of solidarity. It’s about connecting struggles and taking leadership from people on the front lines of crisis. It’s about challenging ourselves and one another to find some of the simplicity beneath the complexity, to discover some of the patterns underlying the details, to create space for nuance and debate without failing to stand firmly alongside people fighting for freedom — fighting for their lives.”