I see a picture of Tamir Rice, and I cry every time. It was a toy. It was an open carry state. It was a twelve year old boy playing in a park. He was not playing video games, he was not texting, he was using his imagination. He was really playing, playing how we keep telling ourselves children no longer play. I remind myself that my white person tears are not required or even desired.
I imagine for a moment, my child, a girl playing with the same gun in the same park. She is multiracial, but you would call her white because white is what is left when the words run out. So, she'll be white because race is what others decide you are. And, yes, she is a she and that matters too. There would never have been the call. There would never had been the police. There would never have been the death. That's the privilege of her skin. My white person tears are not required or even desired.
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