“I’m not rich, Lena, and I can’t help that I’m white. You don’t get to blame me for something I can’t control.” “Why not, Becky? You people blame me for being born black every single day!” “That’s not true. That’s an excuse for poor choices.” “You wanna repeat that?” She sounds stone cold. A nervous tingle starts in my toes, replacing the flash of anger that made me say such a thoughtless thing. “Never mind,” I mutter. “You ain’t walkin’ away from that. Oh, hell, no. Is it a bad choice to get in an elevator? Or how ’bout walk into a store?” “What are you talking about?” “I get in an elevator
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