Dear America:

Do better.

I could end this letter here, honestly, because that's all that I feel really needs to be said. But if that were all I had to say to get us to be better, this letter wouldn't exist, would it? Because you've already been told countless numbers of times to "do better." And yet, here I am, composing yet another letter to you, America, in a desperate attempt to convince you to stop all of the hatred. And honestly, I'm tired of feeling like I have to convince you. Because you shouldn't need to be. You should want to treat someone else right because they're also a human being. Because that's how you'd want to be treated. Despite whatever differences you may have, you know they ultimately don't matter because you will still be able to mutually value the other's individuality and personal life choices without letting that have an impact on how you treat each other.

If you need to be convinced, 1,000 words in an open letter isn't going to change your mind and it's not my job to convince you. I'm a writer, and the thing we writers do best is not convincing others that our idea is right, but writing. Shocker, I know. But I feel like I will touch more hearts and be understood by more people by being vulnerable and sharing my feelings than I will by ranting. I was taught that hatred is not the opposite of love, but the absence of it and that loving someone comes from understanding them. Well, today America, you're going to get the chance to possibly understand me as we go through my own emotions and my transition from hate to love.

I'm scared. Every day I worry that the next story on CNN will be one about my family members or even worse—myself. For every tragedy that occurs, I spend another day in fear that someone will allow their hatred to consume them and take it out on me, verbally or physically. And yet, this fear is not as great as my fear that I will be the one who is consumed by hatred. I wish to live in a world where I do not suffer from an anxiety attack every time I see a police officer. I know that our officers have sworn to "serve and protect" me but the immoral actions of a few coupled with my inability to tell which officers are those few has proven to be more daunting than anyone could have expected. I'm tired of being scared but I'm also tired of other people being afraid. Fear is crippling. It keeps you from acting or speaking up when you see that something is not right and from empathizing and connecting with other people. More importantly, it keeps me from doing those things too. If I'm going to do my part in making America better, I can't be afraid. My fear stops today so America can be better tomorrow.

I don't feel special. And I don't mean in an "everyone look at me and pay attention to only me" way. Everyone deserves to feel like they are valued, important and loved. I feel like I am being pushed under the rug. I feel unheard and misunderstood by the indignant, ignorant, and arrogant people who have the audacity to cry out, "All Lives Matter" or "Blue Lives Matter" in an attempt to overpower those of us who say that black lives do too. Yes, all lives do matter. All lives deserve to be treated fairly. I'm tired of getting weird looks when I tell people I have gone to a Black Lives Matter protest because obviously, that means that I'm violent, against police or I believe that black people should be given special treatment. Black Lives Matter is not an excuse for me or anyone else to get up in arms over "perceived slights." We are a peaceful movement. Cops are not all corrupt and black people are not all violent. We matter. And right now, I'm not telling you that, America. I'm telling me because I need to accurately assess my own value before I can do the same for others. I matter and you matter today, tomorrow and every day after.

I am ashamed of my home country. I am embarrassed to call myself an American. Though we often prides ourselves on being "the land of the free and the home of the brave," the reactions to the shootings and killings of both black people and police officers that have transpired in this past week have proved to me that our famous slogan comes with a bit of a caveat. I'm not enslaved anymore but I'm certainly not free. I'm not in immediate danger but I'm definitely not safe. The America that I am promised is not the same America that has been promised to others. The America I am promised is full of limitations, fear and division. The American dream I'm allowed to follow only goes so far before meeting resistance. The America I live in is complicit in allowing entire groups of people to suffer injustices for the temporary social comfort of a few. I am ashamed of you, America, and yet, I am hopeful. Because this is not who you have to be. It's not even who you're meant to be. We can be a better America.

But being a better America doesn't have to wait until tomorrow. It can start today. It starts with having real, open and honest conversations with both yourself and others so you can understand their feelings. It starts with listening. It starts with standing with your brothers and sisters when they're going through a crisis because that's what you would want them to do for you. It starts with you. It starts with me. Being a better America starts with love.