And more than that, what was I supposed to do about what I didn’t know? I knew the first step wasn’t action. Action on behalf of someone without knowledge of their story would just be ignorance. It would just be saving face, or making myself feel better. I knew that I needed to sit with the information, process it, and learn as much as I could. And I needed to repent of the ways that I had ignored or belittled the stories in the first place. I needed to lament and repent at the state of our country that led to protests being the only thing that could lead to change.
In my normal, mother-with-three-kids-at-the-library style, I browsed the newly arrived fiction shelves near the kid’s room. I didn’t recognize any authors right away, so I