527 words
I write because I can’t stand what’s happening to whites.
It’s personal and it’s political. It’s as small as the chicken bones strewn in the gutter of the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, and it’s as big as the future of the United States and the rest of the West. It’s about the kind of world my white children will grow up in. It’s everywhere I look, so it’s no use trying to avert my eyes. I hate what I see, and I have to scream.
















































































Comeuppances
605 words
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