Our further understanding of people who are not of our nations seem to be from different parts of the globe. I had an idyllic childhood in both Nigeria and Liberia. But as a child watching very little TV that featured a lot of cowboys and Indians, I was not rooting for 1st Nation's people there until we immigrated here and learned the truth. It was clear that those awful people who loved attacking other people who were not like them were me, in history and from the little experience of racism faced here in those early years.

"Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" was my introduction to colonialism and imperialism though I was bathed in it both here and there.

"Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity" ~ William Butler Yeats

Why can't we who I think are full of righteous conviction maintain our passionate intensity? I can only hold my breath and wait for the tipping point of numbers of people who care.