Before I begin, I feel it's important to note that I hold no prejudice against the police. My place as a journalist is to inform and give my point of view. I know there's a tendency to "blame the majority for the minority," which is not my goal. Yes, there are discrepancies in the way police officers are trained, state to state and county to county, but my honest belief is that the vast majority of police officers are honest, upstanding people who risk their lives every day to serve and protect. But this isn't about cops versus black people, or white people versus black people, or any group versus another. The ultimate take away from this is that we need to encourage love, honesty, and justice in the face of the adversity this country faces. Our goal as a nation should be to unify, not to divide, and making these incidents into a matter of "one versus the other" only encourages division.

Privilege has a lot of definitions, depending on who you ask. The Oxford definition calls privilege “a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people.” Advantage. Immunity.

Fact: it is now safer to be a convicted rapist in the United States than to be a black man with a permit to carry a weapon. Yes, you read that correctly — Brock Turner, a white student convicted of one of the most heinous crimes against another human being, received six months (which he isn’t projected to serve in its entirety), while Philando Castile paid for a broken headlight with his life. A horrific cell phone video, posted via Facebook Live by Castille’s girlfriend, details the events immediately following a deadly shooting by a police officer which began as a simple traffic stop. Philando Castile, who had worked in the cafeteria at a nearby St. Paul school for nineteen years, and who had a permit to legally carry a weapon, was shot four times in the arm after informing Officer Jeronimo Yanez that he was carrying a weapon. Castile, remembered by his family as a gentle, passionate individual, stands in stark contrast with Brock Turner, the Stanford University student who is responsible for the brutal rape of a young woman.

So, how does privilege factor into these two events? What does privilege really mean?

As a white person, I know privilege as something I take for granted; I see my own privilege from the inside out. This means that because I am privileged, I never have to think about what my life might be like without it. I don’t have to think about my privilege, because I’ve never had to live without it.

Brock Turner knew this. He knew his privilege, and he took advantage of it. He got six months and a slap on the wrist for a crime that any person, regardless of race, should be given life in prison for. Instead, he was given favorable treatment because the judge didn’t want to ruin Turner’s life. Forget ruining the life of an innocent girl whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time – the judge in this case chose to preserve the life and career of a rapist. Don’t you dare tell me that Brock Turner’s affluence and privilege didn’t factor into that decision.

Growing up, I was taught that the police were my friends. Yeah, I’ve been pulled over, and I definitely deserved it — running a red light in a populated downtown area shouldn’t go unpunished. But I still trusted the police, because I know now that my whiteness and my privilege protected me, and still does.

My mother never had to warn me or my siblings not to venture outside wearing a hoodie. She never told us to keep our hands out of our pockets and visible at all times.

I’ve heard more than one person excuse the actions of Officer Yanez with “but Castile had a criminal record!” According to recent reports, however, Castile had a history of traffic citations. By that logic, I deserve four shots to the arm at point blank range because I myself have three different traffic offenses just on my own record. Most people have a record like this, though, and everyone knows that. Traffic mistakes happen. Four shots to the arm culminating in a fatality doesn’t.

Because of my privilege, I can go to a store right now and purchase a gun, carry a permit, and disclose this to a police officer during a traffic stop without fearing for my life. Simply put, I can exercise my basic rights as an American without the fear that my rights don’t always apply.

This harkens back to the aftermath of the shootings at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, where many people wondered how a gay club could possibly be considered a “safe haven.” So many of us have never experienced the fear that comes with being who you are that we often fail to see how much our privilege factors into our everyday lives. Privilege is not being afraid to hold your partner’s hand in public. Lack of privilege is needing a safe place to be with your partner without fear. I, as a white person, have never had to experience the fear that so many others have experienced when faced with the police.

My privilege is one reason why it’s not my place to speak critically on any of the victims, because I don’t live in fear. My place is to recognize my privilege, to acknowledge it, and to work to change the severe miscarriage of justice that is occurring in our country every day. It cannot be denied that an injustice, many injustices, have occurred, and it keeps happening.

Fact: No one should fear for their life because of who they are.