Kathleen L.

At one time, I would have been confident in my understanding of the personal and systemic harms of racism in the United States. I have always made it a point to be an ally in every sense of the word. This took on an overt and active role in my life when I was 11 and met my best friend and sisterly soulmate, who was one of only two black girls in our very homogenous rural community. As much as it makes me cringe to say, “my best friend is black” and risk falling into that unflattering trope of white allies, I bring it up because though I thought I understood, from witnessing racism on a daily basis in micro and macro levels and vehemently decrying racist ideas and language wherever I found them, I DID NOT GET IT.