If we get pulled over, I hope I’m driving.
I hope I’m driving because my husband’s beautiful full blood skin and stoic stare may be too much for a cop to bare.
I hope I’m driving because I fall just a few shades lighter on the criminal scale…
Because when they approach the vehicle they’ll see me – sitting there – hoping, for the first time in my life, that I appear…white.
I’d explain how a member of my family serves alongside them…
I might even drop their name – so they may clearly hear the white there.
And with these defenses in place,
I would pray my half white privilege would be enough to shield my other skin from deadly assumptions.
With my hands gripping the wheel, I’d be cursing myself for hiding…myself.
But I would.
I would because all the while I’m acting as white as possible, Diamond Reynold’s video of her fiancé’s last moments would be seared to my retinas – just as that moment is to hers.
These are the thoughts looping in my mind…
All this to prepare – stay alive…survive.
Survive – it’s all we’ve been doing for over 500 years…
…I’m tired of surviving.
It’s time we live.