Photo by Louis Hansel @shotsoflouis on Unsplash

The solid wall is all of one;
How can solidarity be between
those of different?
The solid color is all of one;
How can solidarity be between
those of varying hues?

I cannot be you.

But, I can be me with you.

I can be that which is different
with that which is the same.

I can be a corner on the straight.

I can be the wave in the calm.

I have a place — somewhere, with you.

How can I support and aide and assist?

My responsibility is to identify and fill the need.

How can I be of service?

How can I ease the burden?

Please tell me.
For I am a foreigner in your land.
I don’t know.
Tell me, show me, lead me.

I want change.
I need change.
As you do.
But, how?

I open my door for protection.
I open my heart for compassion.
I open my wallet for support.
I open my mind for learning.

My feet walk with yours.
My arms sway with yours.
My voice screams with yours.
My eyes cry with yours.

Too late? Yes.

Too little? I hope not.

It’s time.
I’m ripe.
Show me.

I am white. I am privileged. What can I do?

In my youth, I was a protester, a rabble-rouser, a big voice in a little sea.

I got older. More engaged in my life than others.

I forgot my vision, my passion, my commitment.

I worked and paid bills and survived.

I forgot.

While others did not — could not.

The burden of my neglect has weighed heavily. Heavy enough to donate when I had the change. Heavy enough to cry over and over again watching the evening news. Heavy enough to vote. Heavy enough to feel sad while living happy. None of this was enough or close to enough. No more than a tear in an ocean.

And, now, I face my failings.

I can’t ask for forgiveness because it’s not owed me.

I can only ask — how?

How can I help now?

Written by

I was always a writer but lived in a bookkeeper’s body before I found Medium and broke free — well, almost. Working to work less and write more.

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