My friend Aly once broke it down for me like this: “you’re a cis-hetero, upper middle class, educated white guy. If life were a video game, you’d be playing it on easy mode.”

That can be a little hard to hear but it’s true for me, and it may turn out to be true for you too. To be fair, at your age it’s not clear if your genders are more fluid, or your orientations are different, or where your education and careers will take you. But make no mistake, the comfort and prominence of being white has made and will make your life easier

And yet, if you’re anything like me, you will run into people who invite you to “take it easy” or cut others who look like us “some slack”.

Right now there’s a lot to do. As the protests fade into the background it’s easier and easier to let go of lofty goals and abandon your expectations. Easier still to ridicule and disparage people who take a break.

Even with all the pressure, stress, and big fights to fight, you shouldn’t take it easy. Even when someone who looks like you, sounds like you and pleads that they meant well, or were raised at a different time, and so would appreciate a little slack, be wary before you agree.

Life is easy enough already and white guys have more than our share of slack as it is.

Don’t take it easy, don’t cut people a ton of slack, but do extend yourself and others a little grace.

To some, these may sound like distinctions without a difference. Ease, slack, grace. All speak to comfort and a break from struggle. So why applaud one and avoid the others?

Taking it easy excuses yourself from the work that must be done. Cutting slack lowers expectations for some while others keep striving. Extending grace asks us to appreciate the humanity in others while holding firm expectations for what will be done and how it will be done.

As a teacher, I often need to do this for students. If a kid doesn’t do an assignment, we could take it easy and cancel the assignment, we could cut some slack and grade it with the notion that this is the best they could do, or we could extend grace, offer support and sympathy, then set a plan for completing the full assignment.

There is another alternative of course: be a jerk and tell them they’re wrong. It’s a popular choice for some. It comes along with an inflated sense of righteousness and a diminished view of other people. It can feel good to tell people who fall short just how far they are from adequate. But that’s as far away from grace as you can get.

Or consider sports, players are coming back to training, but few if any are as crisp and sharp as they might have been otherwise. Now is not the time to berate or demean them as failures, nor is it the time to pat them on the head and provide a participation trophy.

Instead we can extend some grace. So if/when they miss an open netter (Rosenborg) , flub a great opportunity to cross (Freiburg), or get caught ball watching as an opponent slices up the defense (Vozdovac), we neither rage nor shrug. We remember these are people. They have families at risk for a rampant disease and their job puts them at extra risk. The world is often on fire and friends, loved ones, or neighbors, might be in harm’s way. By extending a little grace we keep things in perspective, appreciate where they are now and stay focused on where we hope to go.

I live my life on easy mode. I have the luxury and privilege of doing so. For a long time I’ve bemoaned every failure and loathed each short coming. While others encourage me to take it easy or cut myself some slack, I would respectfully say no. I have a lot to do. I can and should do it as well as possible. But I can extend grace and recognize that I am here now, I have done my best, and I can do better.

I’m not saying I’ve done it right, or that I’ve done it at all. But with a little grace I know I’ve done my best today, and I’ll strive to do better tomorrow.