“The fault,

Lies not in our stars, but in our selves.”

I’ve been repeating a short phrase to you both. One that your grandparents would rather I revise, and one that some of my friends will scoff at for its timidity. Still, I want you to learn it:

“Screw you systemic racism!”

You are 7 months and 2 and a half years old. Your strengths are cuteness and innocence and your audience is indulgent. People listen to you because of what you look like. If they are going to listen, say something that means something: “Screw you systemic racism”

Make no mistake, systemic racism is why our cities are unfair, why our cities are in a fury, why our cities are on fire. It’s not because of some secret police conspiracy, or because of out of town instigators, or because of one cop killing one defenseless man. It’s because of systemic racism and all the people who play a role in sustaining it either through our words or our silence, our action or our inaction.

So say it again: screw your systemic racism!

While you do that, I have a lot to do. My strengths are privilege and power and my audience is attentive because of habit, not because I deserve it. People listen to me because of what I look like, not because I’m cute, but because I’m white, and a man, and often in a position of authority. I have done nothing to deserve this audience, but if people are going to listen I better do something that means something.

So you say it, while I do it: “screw you systemic racism”.

I am not going to post my thoughts and prayers to social media. Not going to complain or opine or theorize or joke. For too damn long I thought that was helpful, but it just echoes around my small circle, building a sound and fury while signifying nothing.

I’m going to disrupt the system. I’m going to talk with and challenge everyone: your great-grandma, your great-auntie, my cousins, our fellow citizens. I’m not going to document these conversations for the approval of others. I’m going to challenge them because for too damn long I thought that gradual references would soften them up. But that has just let them stay comfortable and let me be complacent and let systemic racism hold on longer and longer.

I’m going to listen with love to the unheard oppressed and to support and amplify their voices whenever I can. I’m not going to suggest actions, or turn their pain into my personal growth. It’s not about me, or you, or any of our stuff. it’s about the unheard, unappreciated, unaddressed concerns of our brothers and sisters who don’t feel safe, who know no peace, who can’t breathe beneath the knee of systemic racism.

I’m going to fight like hell, every day, however I can. I know education. I believe in education. I want to do what I can to fight for an end to systemic racism in education every day in my work. Through funding, through instruction, through student supports, through family communities, through personal interactions and public structures. This is my life’s work.

When work is done I’m going to fight like hell to avoid comfort, to push for inclusion, to amplify forgotten chapters of history, and to make even distractions and amusements meaningful. You may not know it, but you need it, and I need it, if it’s going to stop being words and start being reality.

And when you handle saying the words, I’m going to help you make a change too.

So screw you systemic racism.

Let’s go.