What began as an indictment of the ubiquity, power and cultural cachet of law enforcement has morphed into a national conversation, where anyone, any business, any industry, any institution that profits from anti-blackness might find itself called out. We’re in the midst of the greatest sociopolitical uprising since the 1960s. Me: Thanks, but my post-Covid schedule is booked. RWN: - maybe, when everything settles, we can get a coffee and talk about racism. RWN: And if you ever wanted to sit and talk about what white people can do. RWN: And we’ve come so far, but have so much farther to go. Me: I’m thinking of things I’d rather do than have this conversation.

RWN: I was thinking about everything happening in the country. Random White Neighbor: Hey, I really liked your book. Sometimes there are others outside, walking a dog or sitting on a stoop, and we’ll exchange brief and socially distant pleasantries and go about our ways.Īnd then sometimes white people recognize me. I prefer these walks in the evening, because they provide a 45-minute window to escape both the relentless sameness of the news and the quarantine. I follow a path that takes me up and down each street until I’ve reached 10,000 steps, the arbitrary point where I feel accomplished enough to give myself permission to eat an ice cream bar. It’s a grid and it’s relatively flat, so it’s an easy walk.

I jump rope, I do some light weight lifting, I think real long and hard about doing some push-ups, and I take walks around my neighborhood. To fill the void created by not being able to play basketball for months, I’ve cobbled together a daily workout.

You want to talk about race