We Are Not Like Them

by Christine Pride

turns out you don’t outgrow yourself.

have. All we wanted was for our lives to hurry up and happen already. And now here we are. It was supposed to be the happily-ever-after part; what we didn’t understand is that adulthood would be a relentless series of beginnings—new cities, new jobs, new relationships, new babies, new worries. Which is probably why I can’t escape the feeling of always being on the cusp of the next thing.

Of all the worries I have on a constant loop—Gigi’s health, Momma and Daddy’s finances, the end of democracy—I

the influence of patriarchy, false standards of beauty, and how centuries of toxic history have conditioned Black men to see white women as the ultimate prize—angles

Imagine you work in McDonald’s and you serve someone fries you’ve accidentally covered with rat poison instead of salt and that person dies right in front of you. No one’s gonna say that ain’t murder. But this… these cops murder someone and their bosses just go,

can tell she doesn’t want to have to say the obvious: How about you don’t call people animals?

No one reminds him that the one time someone punched a police horse in this city, it was a drunk white guy celebrating an Eagles win.

The perfect weather helps too: activism is easier when it’s cloudless and fifty-five degrees.

St. Matthew

wait I went tto st Matthew in philly

Wawa

!!!

lately I’m on edge about everything, so close to the abyss, the dark thoughts like hands reaching out to pull me down into the quicksand. This is always the scariest part of depression, the panicked edge where you think, If I can hold it at bay, stay out of its grip, I’ll be okay. The fear of the fall is so much worse than the bottom, because once you’ve let go, once you’re in the darkness, there’s comfort in the dull surrender. It’s easier than the fight.

single social, political, and legal system in this country is built and maintained by white people, on the bedrock idea of white power, and that allows you to move through the world with a basic confidence in your sense of safety, opportunity, and respect.

That’s why my philosophy is WWWMD.” “I’m not even going to try to guess.” “What would a white man do?”

All those kids assumed college was a foregone conclusion, like breathing.

it’s not really a choice. We did the math, and day care costs more than my salary, so we’d essentially lose money if I continued working.

“You’re a good girl, Leroya, but you gotta let other people help you. You ain’t gonna get any brownie points for doing everything all on your own.”

I think about my mother’s obsessive cleaning like my running, a way for her to feel a measure of control, or at least the alluring illusion of it.

“Get over here and learn to cook if you’re ever gonna get a fine man?” How many times had she rolled her eyes at my pretentious lectures about the patriarchy. “Girl, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with wantin’ a man.”

You always keep everything so bottled up, Riley. I swear that’s why you had so much constipation as a child. So much so Dr. Lexington told me you needed a therapist more than a laxative. I

Always all up in your head trying to reason everything to death. Sometimes you can’t think your way out of a thing. You have to feel it. And

what do you mean by sides? And if there are sides, shouldn’t you be on mine?

ummm

I tell you absolutely everything about my life. I don’t understand why you would keep stuff like that from me.

jfc

“I know, Gabs. It’s like… I don’t know, I’m just pissed off at the whole world right now.

Sometimes I wondered if I was even capable of falling in love.

Now, when I look at it, the pathetic single chair, loneliness hits me with such force it’s a minute

before I remember to breathe.

when Kevin risks his life every day to make sure people—Black people too!—are safe.

oh; oh no

and besides, if you start holding your friends accountable for all their flaws, if you let the annoyances add up on a mental spreadsheet, the whole thing could come toppling down.

I just don’t even think of it most of the time; I don’t even think about you being Black.”

white privilege

It’s a privilege to never think about race. I don’t have that privilege. I

“Chase—my baby, his name is Chase—he came early. I thought I’d lose him. I knew I’d die if that happened.” “But you wouldn’t die. You’d have to keep going, and that is so much worse.”

I don’t add that she raised me to constantly be a better version of myself and that that was exhausting

it was better to be an hour early than a minute late.

out. I’m raw to the world and it’s my own fault.

There are no easy choices, no safe choices, you can’t plan your way to happiness.

it is real easy for me not to think about race.

was trying to shut everyone and everything out. I guess that doesn’t work so well.”

stronger than words. After all, what can words do? She drops the letter, grips the kitchen counter, grits her teeth and waits for the despair to pass. It comes in waves, moments like these, a sense of hopelessness so strong it steals her breath. The sense that no one will understand and nothing will ever change. That white folks will just go about their lives and pity Black folks, and wonder why they can’t get ahead, get a break, just behave already, listen to the police. Those white folks will send their children off to school and know they’re safe. They’ll do all the things white folks have done for years and somehow be able to tune out the cries: Good Lord, please, is it so hard to stop killing our children? Can you stop justifying their murders?

We also hope that the book can help readers initiate hard conversations about race when they’re confronted with a shocking headline about a racially motivated shooting, hate speech, bias, and racism. We want to provide readers with new language and stories to approach these really difficult stories and events.

bestie,

this book was really powerful and idk why their acknowledgements and this section don't seem to address the gravity of the matter