Disclaimer: I do acknowledge that this is a rant. There is no singular aspect of race I want to address. Despite this, in light of recent national news as well as happenings in my own life, I have a myriad of admittedly unorganized thoughts to share.

This week, the n-word was spray painted onto the gates of Lebron James’s home in Oakland. The abhorrent graffiti has since been removed, but its impact still lingers and offers Americans a grim reminder of how far we have to go as a nation.

This shameless act of prejudice serves as just another example of why racism is far from over in the United States. I would argue the 2016 Election is the greatest example of our time but I can and probably will write an entirely separate article about that later. Being called a slur (or having one painted on your home) is an occurrence only some Americans have to worry about and no, cracker doesn’t count. First of all, it doesn’t carry the same historical weight as the aforementioned slur, and secondly, it’s arguably that demographic's fault since the word refers to the “crack-a” sound of a whip being swung. We didn’t choose our word, but yours is your own fault.

Racism is alive and well in our country; it’s just evolved with the times. James said it best during his press briefing, “No matter how much money you have, no matter how famous you are, no matter how many people admire you, you know being black in America is tough…Hate in America, especially for African-Americans, is living every day and even though it's concealed most of the time, even though people hide their faces and ... when they see you they smile in your face, it's alive every single day.” In our society, the progression has gone from slavery to sharecropping to segregation and then, following the civil rights movement, racism still had a presence, it was just much more implicit in mainstream society. Nobody would call you a “nigger” to your face; they’d just prioritize opportunities for the people who looked like them, or talk about you behind your back, or pull you over because you “matched a description”. (For the record, I have no issue with stopping someone if they actually match the description of a criminal in the area. However, if the only description in your possession is “he’s black," maybe don’t stop every negro in the area until you’ve learned some more identifying details.) In James’s case, however, one might think, “Oh, but he’s Lebron! He’s successful, popular, and has a net worth of $400 million! Surely he’s overcome racism in the eyes of these people?” This couldn’t be further from the truth. To these people at the end of the day, he’s still just a “nigger” who happens to have $400 million. No amount of socioeconomic prosperity can outweigh the color of his skin. It shouldn’t have to either, but that’s a separate discussion.

With the rise of 45--I’m sick of hearing his name and seeing his face so, for now, he’s 45--incidences of explicit racism have been rapidly escalating. I would assert that it’s because of a heightened boldness. Clearly, it’s socially permissible to be racist to at least half of the country, so why not just come out and say what you really think of us? Awareness of my race has been and will remain in the forefront of my mind. Although it’s an unfortunate reality, for my own physical and mental wellbeing, I can never forget that I am in fact a black man. The large majority of my friends are not black and they are undoubtedly some of the best people in my life, but every single night that I go out alone or with them my mother says to me without fail, “Remember, you’re a black man.” Now, why would I need to be reminded of that every time I leave home? Is it because I might find myself in the middle of a street conflict I have no stake in? Is it because I might drive or walk through the wrong neighborhood and find myself strung up somewhere? Or is it because I might catch the wrong officer on the wrong day and lose my life if I’m not careful? I’m comfortable acknowledging that the large majority of law enforcement does their job properly every day; in fact, my father is a retired police officer and veteran who took his responsibilities very seriously, however, even though my family has paid its dues to this country, I have to worry about self-preservation from the very people to whom I pay taxes for protection. I have no way of knowing where the malicious ones are at any given moment so watching my back 24/7 is the only option.

This is what it means to lack social privilege. White people can experience oppression and wrongful treatment but rarely if ever is it because they are white. Are there some American neighborhoods where your safety may be threatened? Sure, and it may even be tied to race or ethnic origin. But those are specific instances (and in many cases, it’s the result of past treatment from white people, not out of principle) and they are not institutional or societal. Every day, black people fear for their lives from criminals and authorities alike. Whenever surrounded by new people that don’t look like us, there often exists a pressure to prove that we are at least equal. We can’t even wear clothes stating that our lives matter without getting unfavorable glances or sparking a quarrel. In “A Letter to My Nephew," James Baldwin advises his nephew regarding white people that, “You must accept them and accept them with love, for these innocent people have no other hope. They are in effect still trapped in a history which they do not understand and until they understand it, they cannot be released from it. They have had to believe for many years, and for innumerable reasons, that black men are inferior to white men.” I do my best to practice this acceptance and love regardless of political leanings, however, if I’m being honest, I’ve grown tired and aggravated. It is very difficult to accept and love people who casually voted for a man who thinks the answer to police brutality is law and order. But hey, as usual, I’ll suppress my ExaggeratedBlackManRage™ and smile in your face while you tell me how you feel threatened by Black Lives Matter or criticism of white privilege.

I’ve made my peace with it; I’m stating my grievances, but if I’m being honest, I live a relaxed life and have grown used to constantly having to look out for myself. Black men and women do it every day; it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and we have to deal with it. That’s been our policy since we were forced here against our will and it’ll continue to be our policy until some day when racism is nothing more than a bitter memory. The cynic in me says that day will never come but I can’t help but hope for a better tomorrow. I’d like to think my kids and their kids will grow up in a world where they can interact with people of all ethnicities and delight in each other’s differences rather than be divided by them.