I had been on a quest for years to prove to the world how not racist I was. Sitting in that room, facing the ugliest of truths about myself and my story, I finally stopped hiding. I no longer needed to hide or to prove to the world that I was a good white person. I wasn’t. I was a recovering racist.
"...the report uses CRT as 'a junk drawer for anything about race or justice that makes a certain type of person feel uncomfortable.” Because of the rhetoric around CRT, he said, 'much needed conversations about racial justice are being muted in the environments where they are needed most, such as Christian colleges and universities.'"
The dead become a statistic that we debate regarding who has the right idea about what they did and did not deserve, and in so doing we convince ourselves that we have been granted the rights as gatekeepers who hold the key to determining whether or not someone was worthy enough to finish living out their story.
Only syncretized faiths value the supremacy of human laws. We value truth. The truth is that the state took another Black girl from her family under the pretense of safety, and then it killed her.