The Whiteness of My Discontent: How Privilege Affects The Way I Protest

Virally Suppressed - Muckraking For The Modern World

My whiteness speaks volumes, but I cannot hear them. It tells the world around me that my life matters—that the shedding of my blood and cracking of my bones will bring with it consequences denied to darker-skinned men. In my oaten hue lies the scales of my nation’s justice, blurry-eyed and peering out from beneath the oxidized folds of its blindfold to protect me. My whiteness is its own lawyer. One which does not cross-examine or close, but which whispers of its own accord to those who share my whiteness a few soft words – it could have been you – that make all the difference. My whiteness reflects back at me wherever I go. From the halls of Congress to the billboards lining the highway, my whiteness is affirmed and encouraged. Quietly, it reminds me that this country was made for me. That when the founders said all men

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