The Derek Chauvin verdict reveals the deep divide that remains in our country between races.
In a “post-racial” America (aka complete fiction for the foreseeable future), all citizens would look at the evidence and come to cold, rational, objective conclusions.
“These experts testified that the actions were not acceptable based on all current approved training and procedures. Thus, the latitude that being an officer of the law grants to the brave men and women who choose this dangerous profession is taken out of consideration. Consequently, this was a murder.”
There would be no talk of drugs in the victim’s system, insinuating a lesser person deserving of an unjust consequence.
There would be no talk of the angry or fearful White men with too much power having immunity from the consequences of his actions.
There would only be the facts (evidence), the presentation (the lawyers), and the conclusion (the jury). A decision would be made and it would ideally be very satisfactory for a large majority of the viewing audience *regardless of race.”
This person did something that constitutes murder from the definition that we have agreed upon in our collective society.
No larger context needed to pollute this very specific outcome:
“But if they convict this officer, then it means no police will ever be given the benefit of the doubt again.”
“But if he is not guilty, then police can act with impunity and continue to kill without due process.”
No. He is guilty or not guilty. Justice has prevailed to the best of its ability.
In the case of Derek Chauvin. He is guilty. Justice is served….
A Black man in America has been called a nigger (spelling it fully because I won’t candy-coat this one to make people feel more comfortable) three times to his face as a racial slur, if you were wondering. Each time it was said by a uniformed police officer on duty.
A Black man in America has had guns pulled on him by police officers 4 different times. Each time thankfully ended with no gunshots. Each time ended in no arrests or charges. Each time, that Black man in America was unarmed.
A Black man in America has been arrested without being told why, only to have those charges later dismissed. That Black man in America was denied phone calls for over 24 hours and not told the grounds for the arrest. That Black man in America was later charged with a “blue law” enacted in the 1800s to combat tuberculosis outbreaks. “Blue laws” are laws that cost too much to repeal but are uniformly not enforced. That Black man in America was called a nigger during this arrest and told his people look good in cages.
A Black man in America has been detained as a child under 10 years old by police, while said police “investigate” criminal activity.
A Black man in America has been pulled over for having a rear tire low on air. That same Black man in America has been pulled out of a car and detained while waiting to get a flat tire fixed by AAA during a snowstorm. That same Black man in America has been questioned about a souvenir bat from a baseball game, as if it were a deadly weapon.
A Black man in America has been stopped in his car with his family by an unconstitutional checkpoint and threatened with unlawful tickets and searches in front of his child. When a complaint was filed by the Black man in America about that experience, the same supervising officer that conducted the checkpoint came to that Black man in America’s door to intimidate him into not proceeding with the complaint, waking his child during the late hour of 10 pm.
A Black man in America’s worst fear is police violence. Every. Single. Day.
“Fuck you! You black asshole!” is what she shouted as she poured the contents of her alcoholic drink all over me.
I had just arrived at a crowded bar in midtown Manhattan to meet a few colleagues for happy hour after work. We were huddled in casual conversation when someone walked by and forcefully pushed me as they were walking by; so much so, that I bumped into my colleague standing across from me. Agitated, I turned around to the culprit and said, “You can say excuse me!”, to which she responded with the racially charged epithet mentioned above. An uncomfortable silence fell over my colleagues as they were aghast by her racially charged remark and wondered aloud if people “like that” still existed.
The story got worse from that point but those details are not important. What is important is that these racially charged moments of aggression are potentially lurking around every corner of the Black experience. I could tell of the time when I was in high school, walking home from basketball practice in my catholic school uniform, when two police officers jumped the curb and drew their guns on my teammate and I. I could tell of the time I was in Atlanta when a cop pulled me over in my rental car and said, “Boy, get me your [rental] papers, I want to make sure this is yours,”before I was then pulled over again less than 3 minutes later by another cop who told me that my headlights were not on (it was 2 pm). I could tell of the time when an ex-girlfriend’s roommate was disgusted that she let a Black man take a shower in their bathroom. I could tell of the time when I was at the Intercontinental in Mexico and the hotel manager said to my friends, “Your Black friend isn’t welcome here.”
All of those horrible incidents of racial aggression don’t add up to the constant barrage of racial microaggressions that occur on a daily basis in the Black experience. Psychology Today defines racial microaggressions as, “brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioral, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative racial slights and insults towards people of color.”
Standing at 6’1” with a muscular build, I have a comparatively large physical presence. Layered on top of that is the fact that I am proudly dark skinned, so you might better understand some of the microaggressions that occur in my daily Black experience. However, what some may seem to forget, is that before all of those descriptors, I am a hominid (i.e. a human) with dignity.
(Dignity…)
When I walked into business meetings dressed in a suit and got asked where I played football, I know it was an attempt to erode my dignity. When I conducted a meeting and was then asked where I received my education, I know it was an attempt to erode my dignity. Being chased down and emasculated by another visiting employee at my office, who didn’t realize that I also worked there because I was casually dressed, was an attempt to erode my dignity. Conversely, last night, while wearing a custom tux and repeatedly being asked security type questions is an attempt to erode my dignity. Having to suppress my frustrations in fear of being labeled an “angry Black man” while White colleagues have the ability to freely express their frustrations, is an attempt to erode my dignity. Not seeing any Black executives at the company by which you’re employed, is an attempt to erode my dignity. Being told, “you’re not like those Black people,” when you absolutely are just like your Black brothers and sisters, is an attempt to erode my dignity. Being told that you don’t sound like you were born and raised in Brooklyn because you’re well-spoken, is an attempt to erode my dignity. People that have told me that they, “don’t see race,” are attempting to erode my dignity. Going on a date and being told, “I know I’ve put on too much weight when Black guys start hitting on me,” is an attempt to erode my dignity. Dating someone who says, “my family will never accept you,” is an attempt to erode my dignity. Seeing the recurring violence against Black bodies and the equally as divisive rhetoric that follows on social platforms, is an attempt to erode my dignity. If this reads as an overwhelming paragraph of experiences then just imagine living it every day.
Then there are the psychological questions that begin to fester in my mind because of the racial climate in which we live. Constantly wondering if I am walking too close to someone thereby putting their feelings above my own, is a subtle attempt to erode my dignity. Sitting across from a new prospective client and wondering how does this person view Black people, is a subtle attempt to erode my dignity. Walking out of an interview and wondering if you will or will not get the job on the merit of your experience and not because of the color of your skin, is a subtle attempt to erode my dignity. All of these thoughts come in a flash but can tally up over the course of time to weigh on one’s psyche.
The experiences above are not shared by my White colleagues and friends and therefore we lack the equality that the Declaration of Independence illustrates. Ignoring this difference continues to marginalize our experience as humans with darker epidermis. Despite the aggressions and microaggressions lurking around any given corner, Black people across the diaspora are not victims, we are mighty victors in the face of an ongoing attempt to rob us of a dignity that we hold so dear. But we will not crumble to any perils that may be lurking around any corners because as Maya Angelou wrote, “I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise. I rise. I rise.”
February 23, 2020 – I don’t remember much about that day for myself. It was a Sunday so I probably went to church, came home and got in some comfortable clothes, and spent the rest of the day on the couch doing much of nothing. Within a couple of weeks, I’d be on lockdown in my home for the foreseeable future, unsure of when my life would get back to normal, if that ever was to exist again. It was on that day that 25-year-old Ahmaud Arbery decided to go for a jog in his Brunswick, GA neighborhood. Unbeknownst to him, a father and son would be out on the same road that day looking for trouble. You see, they kept their loaded shotguns in the back of the truck I’m sure just in case they passed some wandering deer, possums, or for the occasional menacing ni**er. Of course, they say that this Black man, jogging down the street trying to tend to his own health, “matched the description” they say of a burglary suspect. According to them, that’s when they grabbed their guns and decided to leave the house in an effort to pursue him on a “citizen’s arrest.” What happens from there is anyone’s guess, and the coward filming appears to be more concerned with catching the action than preserving a life considering that he later shared the video with friends bragging about what had happened.
I’m not going to spend a whole lot of time combing back through all of the details and facts that we can find on every major and minor news outlet. I don’t have the time to contemplate why it’s appropriate for the state of Georgia to allow people to get a haircut during the Covid-19 pandemic, but conveniently can’t find the means to arrest or bring charges against 2 men who have spent the last 2 months at home, alive, believing that they had every right to pursue another human being and kill him without any question. I’m sure that, after a couple of weeks, they assumed they were in the clear and that nothing would be done. The father and son had probably even turned their attention to protesting the loss of their own “freedom” during a time where people were dying, because it wasn’t directly affecting them so they wanted the privilege to move around freely again. After all, it’s their American right to do so!
My questions at this time are many, my anger is at a boiling point and I don’t have enough energy to process frustration. Instead, I find myself asking-
“Was Ahmaud not allowed to be scared when 2 men rolled up in a pick-up truck pointing guns at him?”
“Is it possible to fight back when strangers come out of nowhere and interrupt your peaceful jog by pointing a long gun at you and screaming at you in a way that must’ve rendered you confused and in shock?”
“Why is a very real threat to people who look like me always laced with questions and doubt, as if it’s some sort of made up, imaginary fantasy?”
“Are we still unable to acknowledge the history of domestic terrorism towards Blacks in this country? The kind that makes sure every Black child is given “the speech” by parents and elders from the time they are able to listen, and doesn’t stop even into adulthood because now a wife is also concerned that her husband may not make it home safely.
“Was my ability to feel pain stripped away when my ancestors had their children stolen from them at an auction block, never to be held or nurtured again? Am I still supposed to be that numb?”
“When do I get to feel what I want to feel- fear, hurt, frustration, pain- and express it without being labeled as “angry” and “black.”
I can’t say for sure what will happen this time. If the District Attorney is suggesting that it is taken to a grand jury, I can’t respectfully thank him for his consideration and walk away expecting justice to be served. What I am sure of, however, is that the courtesy that the Black community has extended to those who have hurt us over the past 400 years is wearing thin and patience is running out. I am educated and experienced, and this weekend will receive a doctorate degree. Yet, I personally will think twice about the vengeance I withhold, and will no longer be polite in my stance when the death Black and Brown people is a movie that can be played over and over again without even a warning label, as if to desensitize us all to the fact that Ahmaud was even human. Ask yourself when was the last time you even saw a video of a dog being killed that didn’t come with a warning or of “graphic violence and animal cruelty”? I’ll wait…
With October 31st in the rearview, there was something the British were dreading more than Halloween tricks this year, namely the possibility of a no-deal Brexit. More than 3 years after the referendum, the situation seems comical. The dramatic promises Boris Johnson made vanished into thin air again after the House of Commons rejected the text summoning elections before Christmas, a moment deemed inadequate by the Labour Party. Denouncing this hostage-taking strategy, Johnson foresees he may need to count on the European Council’s decision to refuse any postponement. Now a delay has been granted until January 2020 and as I write, Johnson has just obtained the right to organise anticipated elections after all. Politics is a slow and intricate process, even more so when the government is polarised and can’t seem to reach a compromise.
As inextricable and sad as the situation may seem, what seems to reach a consensus is the weariness and annoyance surrounding each news report and twist. Who can pull it off if Boris Johnson can’t? For many, he was the strong leader the UK needed after the many rejections faced by Theresa May. If at first each move or each decision would hit the headlines, it has now become more like a tired joke told by a drunken uncle at a family gathering: no one laughs and, in fact, no one cares. Tragically, millions of people are waiting for a decision that will change their life, present or future, but the rest of Europe has had enough.
At first, there was some kind of euphoria, this idea that things could change after all, even here in the middle of the Old Continent, people could make their voices heard and traditional alliances could be cancelled. On the other side, there was fear and tears, despair and crushed hopes, torn families as well. But in short, there were feelings! If people used to be hopeful and optimistic about the deal they were sure May or Johnson was going to secure, it seems like today they would say something along the line of “Yeah, whatever.” I’m not even brushing at what a no-deal Brexit would mean for the country, economically and socially, ditto for the rest of Europe. The impact of this decision will probably exceed predictions, positively or negatively, only time will tell. But what seems obvious is that the longer it takes for Brexit to happen, the less positive energies remain to obtain the best conditions possible.
The short story, “The System of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Fether” by Edgar Allan Poe, appeared in the November 1845 issue of Graham’s Magazine. Most literaries wouldn’t cite it as one of their favorites, but it did produce one of the most famous cliche lines ever… “Believe nothing you hear and only one half that you see.” That line was delivered by the head of a private hospital for the mentally ill, which also happens to be the setting of the story. Simply, he was referring to the gossip of others. The head of the institution attempts to place wisdom into one of the patients who is unsure of who to trust and what to believe because of gossip in the hospital.
A combination of opinions, bias, fear, and a host of other elements play into who and what we believe… and the recent Kareem Hunt incident is no different.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve heard and/or seen the viral video of Kansas City Chiefs star running back Kareem Hunt shoving and then attempting to kick a woman in a hotel hallway. There should be no debate on what we all saw in the video… but… like with everything else, what some believe will determine the fate of Mr. Hunt and if he should ever be allowed to play in the NFL again.
For a long time, major historical events have been captured on film. Viewing historical events creates takeaways, takeaways generally aligned with preconceived notions and beliefs. When belief is placed ahead of facts and logic, the results can be terrifying. Not sure what I’m referring to? Well let’s go down memory lane and look at a few historical events in which the video recording clearly showed one thing, yet the aftermath and subsequent events did not fall in line with the recording.
Rodney King beating by five members of the Los Angeles Police Department. The 1991 video recording still wasn’t enough to convict the police officers of excessive force. The jury did not believe the five White officers used race when factoring in the beating of King, instead of following LAPD protocols.
From the mid-1990s until the end of the 2000s, the United Nations sent weapons experts to inspect and determine if Iraq had any weapons of mass destruction. Despite numerous reports AND video recordings of the inspectors showing no signs of active production of weapons of mass destruction, the George W Bush Administration double-downed on its belief that Iraq was linked to sponsoring terrorism against the United States and that it would provide terrorist organizations WMD’s, thus justifying an invasion of Iraq. Thousands of lives lost, billions of dollars spent, and many many many years later, NO such WMD’s have ever been found.
We’ve seen this countless times before with police shootings, and the all lives matter crowd famously pushing back with “we weren’t there” and “we don’t know all the facts yet.” Responses designed to circumvent the racial elements in questionable police shootings and to uphold the belief that if the person would have obeyed commands, stated their blood type, and recited the alphabet backward… the victim would still be alive today.
As we can see, those with the ability to control the outcome of incidents will do so to favor and confirm their beliefs.
Now back to Hunt…
The video showing Hunt assaulting a woman drums up the infamous Ray Rice video in which he assaulted his then fiancé in a casino elevator. After the offseason altercation with his fiancé, Ray Rice started the following season suspended; however, during his suspension, the casino elevator video was leaked by TMZ. The imagery of Ray Rice knocking out his fiancé was too much to be unseen, and Rice never played in the NFL again. That video forever changed the consequences of domestic violence in all sports, a change welcomed by all if applied appropriately.
Hunt’s fate is still unknown at this point; however, the circumstances should be viewed differently. Hunt’s assault wasn’t domestic, which isn’t and shouldn’t be viewed the same. Hunt’s assault was the result of racial slurs from the woman who also attempted to strike him. The suspension and release of Hunt from the Kansas City Chiefs right after the video leaked is valid. Having consequences for conduct unbecoming of a professional athlete is warranted and necessary. However, the beliefs and preconceived notions behind seeing a 5’11 200-pound Black man striking a 5’3 135-pound White woman is one that will probably place longer and harsher punishment on Hunt than it should.Hunt deserves punishment of some sort, and after such punishment, he should be allowed to play in the NFL again, obviously with strict guidelines regarding his off-field behavior. Anything more than that is a slap in the face of fairness.
With one of the bloodiest wars in human history as the backdrop, Édith Piaf penned one of the most romantic love songs of all time in 1945.
“La Vie En Rose” is a world-famous ode to two enamored lovers and a song that has been covered by some of the world’s most famous artists like Louis Armstrong, Grace Jones, and most recently Michael Bublé and Lady Gaga. This song touches me because Édith was a woman whose life was littered with various personal tragedies. You’d think most of her music would be downtrodden but somehow she was able to find some light within her to write this beautiful melody.
In English, the song title translates to “life in rosy hues,” and it is a song we should all reflect on this holiday season. It’s a song that invokes romantic feelings of lovers in a warm embrace. Which might seem rather mushy for some, but to my surprise, this song has been really meaningful to me this year.
Actually, the last two years have been rather difficult for me.
I lost friends I loved, I lost confidence in myself, and I lost hope in our nation. This mounting sense of loss led to some painful yet beautiful moments of self-reflection. Some of that pain had derived from much needed personal maturation around my romantic pursuits. Some of that pain had derived from a phase in my career where it felt like I had jumped from the frying pan into the fire. And some of that pain derived from the anxiety of dealing with the onslaught of political drama coming out of the White House.
The other night, I was driving to Brooklyn on the FDR Drive when I got caught in some dead stop traffic. I felt like I was in LA. As I am sitting in the car looking at the Brooklyn Bridge on the horizon, “La Vie En Rose” began to play on my stereo. This time, Louis Armstrong was singing the song, and the moment I heard his voice, I began to reflect on the words Edith originally sang 73 years ago. I suddenly felt tears well up in my eyes.
“Hold me close…”
As I sang along I was overcome by this overwhelming sense that everything was going to be okay. Despite my fears, anxieties, and concerns the Universe was holding me close. Somehow things would work out in my favor. Maybe it was the soft strokes of the piano keys or the ringing clarity of Satchmo’s trumpet, but I knew at that moment that things were going to turn around.
“…And though I close my eyes I see la vie en rose…”
When I was younger and less jaded, I would close my eyes and see boundless possibilities — life ahead could only have been in rosy hues. Even as war raged on in my own personal life, I could still see happy hues. But as I became more conscious of the world around me, those hues began to darken. And sometimes when I close my eyes I don’t see la vie en rose anymore, I see a much darker place. But while I was in the car with my eyes closed, I found relief — if only for a moment.
“…When you press me to your heart and in a world apart…”
Some of us because of whatever circumstances may be weighing us down, may not be able to see life in a rosy hue anymore. To those dear friends, I’d encourage you to find someone you love, someone who loves you or even a lovely song and hide in their warm embrace. If you can’t find love then give love. And if you can’t find love or give love then message me! After all, love is one of the most powerful forces on the planet in binding us together.
We find ourselves at a precarious moment in the history of our species. When you remove your rosy spectacles, you may see that between our continued destruction of the planet and the manner in which our world leaders continue to lead through violence that we face a palpable existential crisis at every turn.
However, as I turn up the volume on this beautiful song, I am able to better understand President Obama’s recent comments in South Africa:
“And now an entire generation has grown up in a world that by most measures has gotten steadily freer and healthier and wealthier and less violent and more tolerant during the course of their lifetimes.”
To be clear, I’m not suggesting that we deny what is happening before our eyes. Not at all. However, we should consider how our constant attention to the media cycle could be impacting us. I know it’s caused me to think rather irrationally at times and has ushered me into a feeling of hopelessness. But I know I feel more hopeful when I turn my gaze to identify things I’m truly grateful for.
“…Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be la vie en rose.”
This Holiday season — as madness continues to swirl around us — I pray that you too see what Edith, Louis, Obama, and I have embraced in loving life at such a time as this. Let’s turn up the volume and celebrate la vie en rose.
Robert Bowers is a sick and unstable man. Yes, he does check all those boxes, but he also checks the box of being a terrorist. His actions on Saturday, October 27th, took the lives of 11 people. These 11 people had stories, challenges, dreams, accomplishments, and loved ones that each and everyone built a world around, and this one man decided to tear it down.
Why did he do it? Because they had programs that were designed to help refugees and the less unfortunate.
Take a moment to let this digest. A moment to realize that yes, though our nation has mass shootings all too frequently, one of the reasons why it keeps happening is because we as a nation fail to stand together.
We allow men and women in power to divide us, and then to show our disgust and solidarity with the victims, we provide a moment of silence and hang our flags low. This is what we do when an individual who has been fueled by ignorance, rage, and fear, decides to become a monster and rip lives apart because of their beliefs.
Guns aren’t our only problems in these situations. It’s how we cultivate these types of monsters and then do absolutely nothing to correct our collective mistake.
Don’t send your thoughts and prayers. The victims don’t need them anymore, and their broken friends and families are tired of hearing them.
In the popular 1997 hit,Up Jumps Da Boogie, rapper and producer Timbaland said, “See a Black man dead from a White man’s powder, see a White man scared from a Black man’s power.” The play on words is interesting when you think about the racial tension in our country today and the general fear of losing power. Individual or group power, however it’s attained, it’s usually not relinquished without aknock-down, drag-out fight… if not literally, then institutionally and policy-wise, and at the very least, rhetorically.
With that being said, does the pigmentation of someone else persuade or alter the way you think about an entire culture or race of people?
What’s sad is that there are millions of people who won’t admit it; but in reality, their answer is yes to the aforementioned question. So why is it that people tend to find or search for fault in others that they don’t even know?
I wonder could it be that genetically some of us are embedded with a prejudice bone. Nahhhh that’s impossible. Reason being prejudice and racism is a disease that is taught… it’s a learned behavior. Young children are completely ignorant of prejudice and racism. Kids are naturally going to play with other kids because race or religion aren’t prerequisites for having fun. There should absolutely be no reason why 2 people can’t play or pray together. Unfortunately, by way of upbringing and media influence, kids are taught to recognize color in some form or fashion as their parents or community members do who uphold certain social beliefs and perspectives, which develops a pyramid of racial bias. It’s sad that the Caucasian race is perceived to be superior when, in fact, each race/ethnicity holds their own special qualities.
I believe it all boils down to fear. The fear of not knowing what one is capable of, or better yet the fear of accepting another for being different. Fear and power might be the main reasons behind the racial divide in the US, and throughout the world. Can you imagine being a slave in the Deep South and thinking about freedom, but the fear of being captured and lynched kept you from trying to escape? The daily fear of death or being separated from family, it’s hard to fathom such anguish.
My point is that as a society we’ve grown to accept people for being prejudice and racist. To make matters worst President Trump has added fuel to the fire of racial tension in our country. His inciteful rhetoric and actions impact us all, even those on the sidelines. Before we know it, we’ll be in a full blown Race War, which could set our country back hundreds of years.
As citizens, we need to come together and move beyond this Fear and Hate that looms over our country, and frankly, everywhere else as well. It’s not too late, but we’re running out of time.
My mother lived in Montreal, Canada before she decided to come to the United States to build a better life for her family. I was one of the lucky ones who had a parent whose situation allowed her to go through the proper channels to come here. She could have easily been a refugee coming from a war-torn nation or a country that had no positive outlook for her and her family. But again, we were lucky and now I have the full rights and liberties as any other citizen of this great nation. It is because of that freedom that I express in absolute rage and disgust of Trumps new plan to scrap DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals).
What is DACA:
DACA is a program that started in June 2012.
It allows young illegal immigrants to register with the federal government and obtain a work permit as well as receive a renewable two-year period of deferred action from deportation.
Most of the youth in this program came to the United States when they were babies, and toddlers and did not know they were illegal immigrants until they attempted to apply for a driver’s license or to go to college.
The program does not provide lawful status or a path to citizenship, nor does it provide eligibility for federal welfare or student aid.
DACA eligibility:
You cannot have a criminal record, which includes a felony, or misdemeanor.
You must be enrolled in school, have a graduate degree, or be an honorable veteran.
You must arrive in the U.S. before the age of 16.
Be under the age of 31 as of June 15, 2012.
To show proof of qualification, all applicants must submit three forms –
I-821D: Consideration of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals
I-765: Application for Employment Authorization
I-765WS: Worksheet
This policy was created after acknowledging that the youth that came here at such tender ages were “low priority” for immigration enforcement to pursue considering their good behavior, which is why the act of terminating it is so ridiculous. Freedom… the ability to choose how to live your life, in the way you wish to live it, free from tyranny, and prosecution, should not be of question for these young people who have done everything required of them.
Earlier this week (9/5/17) I spent most of my evening at the DACA rally in Foley SQ Park, NY trying to understand the sentiment of the people and how they are handling the latest jab to our nation’s identity, and I can proudly say that I was not disappointed.
I saw people from all walks of life holding up signs such as:
No Hate, No Fear, Democracy is here
F*&^ Trump
Immigrants BELONG here
Build Bridges NOT WALLS
It was amazing to see everyone come together and stand against a common threat to what makes this country great… Immigrants.
We are all immigrants in the U.S., and watching our leaders fail again and again is the main reason our country is so divided. It isn’t the Republicans versus the Democrats, or Christians against Muslims, or anything else that is being thrown around in the media. It’s a truth that is ingrained in our very history that is being ignored, and that truth is that we all came here to make our lives, and those we care about, better. If we can’t do that, what does it even mean to be an American?
