In the face of the murders of Black people, murders that endlessly repeat, how can one presume, still, that there is an “us” and a “we” that are in something together? This register assumes that “we” are all in the world in the same way, that we experience suffering on the same plain, that we can be “repaired” in the same way, that the structures, the architectures of violence and of affect, reach us in the same ways.
