I can never know what it’s like to be black.
I will never know what it’s like to be a man.
I do not know what it is like to be incarcerated.
I do not know what it’s like to own a private jet.
I do not know what’s it’s like to be on welfare.
I can never know what it’s like to grow up in the country.
I can never know what it’s like to grow up Muslim.
There is more that I do not know than I know.
But I do know what it’s like to laugh, to smile to cry;
To feel safe, to feel joy, to feel pain;
To be afraid, to be hurt…to be loved.
I wonder how things might be different if we began our conversations there, instead.
