It isn’t until the crowd sings along that I realize how much of a minority Carter and I are here. How most of the crowd is white, and how they have no problem rapping every word, even the N-word. I know that it’s just the lyrics. I know they’re not calling me the N-word, but every time I hear it chorused, I recoil. And I can’t do anything about it. I’m not supposed to be, or even allowed to be, offended by it. My blood boils because I am offended by it. My skin slicks with sweat because I’m also scared.
