Here is what she wrote (with full permission to disclose):
But this is what I know.
It doesn't matter what is actually said or not said out loud to us. I know talking about race with my children will not be enough. I know educating my kids will not protect them. I know one of my sons may be in danger simply because of the color of his skin. The news right now terrifies me. Like, keeps me up at night kind of terrifies me. The Michael Dunn case contrasted against the Michael Giles case and Florida's unequally applied Stand Your Ground laws. Or this crazy list of cases that makes it clear that something as simple as wearing a hoodie or driving in a car with a white girl could get you in trouble. I could post a million links to examples of why racism and unequal treatment still exist in this country. And I know there are people who will say again and again that the above cases have nothing to do with race, but I disagree and stand with those who KNOW that race is exactly what they are about. As a white woman, I've never experienced this type of marginalization and the times I've dealt with overt sexism, I haven't ever been in fear that there is some rampant and societal disregard for the worth of my life. And yes, I realize that even a hundred years ago or living in a different country might make that feeling more of a reality as a woman but in 21st century America, I do not feel endangered. Most of the time I actually feel empowered.
So what do I do with this fear? I join the ranks of parents who know their kids will not get equal treatment under the law. I join the moms who have to worry about someone feeling threatened by my child's skin or cultural background and lashing out and being protected by the law in so doing. My kids will not grow up completely trusting the law like I did. I had no reason not to but they will. I listen to my friends and read and educate myself about the side of America I didn't know existed until college. I join the other white parents of black children who will always feel a sense of helplessness and anger, knowing we can't understand what our children are feeling, wanting to protect them but seeing firsthand the ways our culture is still horrifically messed up. And also knowing that there are people out there who think we shouldn't be their parents in the first place and will look at us as part of the problem.
But you know what else I do? I run to Jesus. I do. Because otherwise, the fear and the anger, while justified, will eat me up. The stories that I've heard firsthand from friends, the things I have read on the news, these things will threaten to overwhelm me. I need Him to remind me that there is always hope. And in that hope, I pray for change. I pray that our country would wake up. That the deniers would quiet down long enough to actually listen to the real stories of injustice. That the anger and the hurt and the fear would be transformed into change. Real change. Not just change on paper, but change in hearts and attitudes. Change in assumptions. Change in legal outcomes. Change in the schools and the churches and the institutions that perpetuate the ugly.
And as I wait in hope, I stand in voice with brothers and sisters of all backgrounds and say "When is enough enough?"