The reality on January 15, 2018.
Perhaps the most ironic moment of the day is when I drove my used-but-still-slightly-luxurious (heated seats!) sedan down a street in Highland Park. Highland Park, the city-with-a-city, where the larger city is Detroit and the smaller city isn’t doing so hot with violence, poverty, and danger itself.
I went a church today, the message was about love and justice and I even applauded at the right parts and hugged and shook hands with people of all colors afterwards.
It was snowing when I drove home, not biting cold, but cold enough.
There was a young man walking the exact way I was driving, but he only had a thin jacket on, and he had a scarf wrapped around his mouth.
He was a young black man, probably younger than my youngest brother. He turned to walk backwards in the snow, so I saw his puffy, curly hair sticking out of his hood.
He reminded me of his brother, and I wanted to pull over and ask him if he wanted a ride for a few miles, the direction I was headed; but, my siblings caution me enough about being careful in the city, plus it was getting dark, plus I didn’t know the guy nor if he was safe nor if he was carrying anything dangerous.
So, I kept driving in my car with the heated seats, in my warm coat from Poland, from my full-time job I scored with my college education with a lifetime of square meals and an intact family unit and educated parents and every other privilege a person could possibly be handed. I drove past a young man walking in the middle of a snowstorm in a violence-laden city, him wearing nothing but a thin jacket.
Tonight I listened to the Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have Dream” speech. I want those things, too.
But, I drove past today, because I also want to be cautious.
To be honest…I kind of hate that about myself.
Just if we’re being honest.
If I don’t become a braver women…nothing will ever change.