It was a Thursday night. I was going through my Facebook feed, when the most recent video of a black man getting shot appeared below an Onion article ironically titled Black Man Blissfully Unaware His Name Going To be Hashtag By End Of Week. I clicked on the comments section, trying to see the details of the shooting under the video, when your comment caught my eye. The words you said, I won't repeat. I read the replies under it and wasn't surprised to see the uproar of good people setting you straight. But my curiosity still lurked. As I scanned your profile picture, the cover photo bannered the confederate flag. I felt the dismay in my heart seeing that your profile picture was an image of your young daughter. I returned back to the comments section and scrolled farther down, noticing that for every comment going that went against your own, you simply retorted another racist slur.

It must of been a mixture of a stressful weak combined with my long standing inability to turn the other cheek, but with one click I was staring at the Facebook messenger app, your name in the "To:" section. For fifteen minutes I typed and deleted what I so badly wanted to say. It began with curse words and insults, by the time the anger receded from my fingertips, i collected my thoughts as much as i could. It said the following.

Its not my place to message you, but I don't care. I see that the replies to your comment on the video left you with no feeling of remorse, and I doubt I'll be the only one messaging you directly. You are a sad excuse for a human being. The things you said are disturbing on many levels, especially considering you're a father. I hope your daughter grows up to be a more educated and compassionate person than you.

I realized soon after sending that as a sixteen year old girl, I didn't have a place to send a grown man a virtual hate letter. I regretted allowing myself to take out a week of stress and months of anger on an unsuspecting, but not undeserving, man from Texas. However, I felt no remorse for attempting to fight an injustice, even as petty as through a Facebook message. I read over what I sent and reminded myself the things you so ignorantly believed. I wanted you to know that you couldn't get away with nonchalantly demeaning an entire race in the comments section of a video that clearly portrayed the abuse of human rights.

I realized a few days later it wasn't that you, one man I had been so fed up with, but instead, knowing all I could do at that moment was send a message. I couldn't message the police officer from that video or the ones from the previous videos. I couldn't go back to when that man from the video was killed and save him from the racism that plagues our country. In that moment, all I had was Facebook messenger and you, the racist man from Texas.

In this new social norm of inequality, I have felt stuck in my abilities to help. I hope that as I grow older, I'll find a better use of my loud opinions and idle hands then shaming a pathetic man through the internet. I hope that as you age, wisdom comes along with it. But if not, I pray you become senile before you have the chance of passing any ignorant views onto your grandchildren.