On a 98-degree Texas summer day, I sat outside with a friend who had lost her teenage daughter the week before. A few months earlier, I had stared at my phone trying to figure out how to call another friend who was five months pregnant when her husband was killed in a car crash. As I write, I have just learned via text message that yet another friend lost the baby she’s been trying to make for years. And this past two weeks, as demonstrations against institutional racism have raged on, I have sat awkwardly silent next to friends of color, wanting to say something worthwhile but coming up short. Click here to read more…
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