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I am not qualified to talk about a lot of things. Most things, in fact. I am an expert in nothing and know a tiny bit about a few things. For this reason, I say little of great importance outside of the confines of my closest friends and family.
Politics? I’ll leave that to the talking heads.
Religion? There are enough voices out there.
Covid-19? What else can be said that hasn’t been said?
I lean toward keeping it light and keeping it personal.
But then Tuesday happened.
I woke and began my day and one of the first things I saw was the face of Ahmaud Arbery.
Like the rest of the country I was horrified at the words I was reading the the video I saw.
A man running down the road in broad daylight, shot and killed, for nothing.
Nothing.
How could this happen? How?
This happened more than two months ago and I am just hearing about this?
How could this happen? How?
—
More days than not during my lifetime, I have walked out the door to go for a run. I have ventured into unknown neighborhoods, down unfamiliar roads, and logged thousands of miles while running.
I have never worried that I would be shot.
Not once.
Watching the scene unfold on Tuesday I was struck with the luxury I have to run without such fear.
—
Yesterday afternoon, before I left for a run, I gathered Charlie, Chanelle and Meadow together. I stood with them as we watched a news report about Ahmaud Arbery.
I needed them to know. To see.
His name is Ahmaud Arbery, I told them. Know his name.
I told them that I was leaving for a run and I don’t have to think about being shot. Meadow looked momentarily fearful, did that happen here? she asked.
She doesn’t yet understand. How could she? It wasn’t location as much as it was the color of his skin.
—
How will this ever end? I asked Chad last night. How will this change?
I don’t have answers. Oh, how I wish I knew.
I only have this. . . I will listen. I am listening. To the black men and women who have experienced far more than I can understand.
Today, I will go 2.23 miles for Ahmaud Arbery. On his birthday.
—
I am unqualified to talk about most things. I am especially unqualified to talk about issues of race.
Still, I had to say something.
