To whom this may concern:

I was never prepared to be at a loss for words after seeing someone shot in cold blood. Four bullets were put into another man’s body and all I could do was sit back and watch. A man, whom volunteered in local elementary schools and made children’s days better. A man, whom attended the local state university, himself. A man, whom was in a car, whom informed an officer that he was licensed to carry a concealed firearm, whom was reaching for his wallet. A man, whose own girlfriend had to be less than three feet away; not to mention her four year old daughter who was also within three feet of him, while an officer of the law put four bullets into his body. The worst part of this whole situation was the fact that I was not three feet away. No, not even ten feet, or one hundred! I watched this happen 18 hours after the fact, and in the comfort of my own bed.

I was never prepared to go to high school, middle school even, and be asked for ‘the black opinion’. If you’ve never been asked to speak on behalf of a whole group of people let me explain how this goes:

Teacher: (asks whole class about an issue that we’ve all spent less than 20 minutes of our days thinking about)

One kid in class: Well I think…(proceeds to relate question to very personal life experiences, sometimes a story that was passed down through the generations, perhaps a conversation had at breakfast with a parent.)

Teacher: Oh that’s very interesting! (YOUR TIME TO SHINE!!!) (TURNS SLOWLY IN YOUR DIRECTION WHETHER YOU ARE PAYING ATTENTION TO THIS SUBTLE MOVEMENT OR NOT) And Lexi? From, I don’t know, a black person’s perspective, how do you guys feel about this issue?

(Ready?) You: How do black people feel about this issue? Well, shoot. On behalf of all black people to ever make an appearance ever, I would like to say that we’ve had a few committee meetings, met as a larger group before we worked in smaller sects to break down our thinking, regrouped at a conference just outside of Dallas last week and decided that AS A FULL GROUP, WE BLACK PEOPLE don’t have an opinion on this issue at hand. If any black people missed this issue’s conference, don’t worry! I’m sure tomorrow we will be asked to speak on behalf of each other, and there will be plenty of time for regrouping! Thanks for asking.

We black people are very tired of being asked to speak on each other’s behalf and to be able to relate to every sad, unfortunate situation every day. I don’t know what it’s like to lose my dad, my brother, my boyfriend, cousin, nephew, uncle, friend, son, neighbor, teacher, or just that really nice guy who held the door open for me one time. I don’t know what it’s like to go through a normal day and then find myself being a target of hate when I really am just trying to get through the day. I don’t know what it’s like to have to be calm when my four year old daughter sits in the back seat of my car after my boyfriend was shot after reaching for his wallet. AND WE WANT TO SIT HERE AND TALK ABOUT GUN VIOLENCE? I am laughing. (I really was.) On behalf of all black people, we no longer want to be the target of aggression and hate.

I’ve never really been able to talk about being black around other people. Not because I didn’t feel comfortable, but because my experiences were never truly relatable to anybody else’s experiences. I am black, I was adopted at an early age into mostly white family, grew up in a very white city and hung around with only white people, except my brother and a few teammates. Throughout the years, I’ve always taken the bench when approached on social justice issues, I responded the same to every situation, “It’s sad, it truly is.”

A short time after going to college I befriended a football player. He was an extremely smart and talented sociology major. He spoke very boldly, everything he said was backed by evidential proof. He was the first black man I ever admired.

To be able to stand up and be proud of who you are, where you came from and where you’re going is one hell of a talent, and damn, does he do it well. I go through these stages, seeing yet another black man killed on the news, and I feel scared about being black; to seeing my friend go to protests, have peaceful gatherings and conversations over social justice and race inequality, and I feel guilty about not being strong enough to stand alongside him; to being able to coerce almost anything out of anyone, and I feel shame that “sounding white” gives me a very large upper-hand. I was never prepared to not understand what ‘my own’ culture is all about. I was never prepared to be 21 years old and have to be told that, “not all white people are racist” as if I had never interacted with a white person before. I was never prepared to live in this world of hate. As a nation of dreamers, who could have been prepared for an era like this?