Up until now I didn't have words. Up until now I was numb to the events unfolding in the world I live in. But now... I feel confusion. I feel broken-hearted, helpless, fearful, and ashamed.

I'm confused as to how we can allow such violence to occur, without punishment.

I'm broken-hearted that systemic oppression, hatred, and intolerance is such a cultural norm that so many people don't even realize it's ingrained into our society.

I'm helpless because I don't know what power I have, if any, to do anything to make changes.

I'm fearful that this violence could one day reach me, my family, loved ones, classmates, maybe my future children, directly.

I'm ashamed, because up until now I've failed to even speak up.

How an altercation with a figure who is supposed to provide safety to the people could turn into the murder of an unarmed citizen of said people- I will never understand.

How an officer who was supposed to maintain peace became a murderer and was not held responsible for their actions- I will never understand.

The fact that the designation of power and privilege boils down to the simple difference in the color of someone's skin- I cannot accept.

By failing to object, we contribute to the notion that this is acceptable. We perpetuate the systemic racism that caused the unjust, unavenged deaths in the very first place.

Just because we've made some progress when it comes to racial injustice in our nation since the 1900’s does not mean we are anywhere near finished. We are made equal, but we still don't treat each other that way. I will not say: "Dear white people: do this," or, "Dear black people: do that." I don't want to promote the idea that we are divided or that we are different. Good people are good people. And the hearts of good people are in the same place when they are made aware of the horror existing in our world. Good people have a sense of humanity.

We have to treat each other as equals. When we see the videos circulating on the Internet of Philando Castille and Alton Sterling, and hear the stories of men like Micheal Brown, we have to see ourselves within them. We have to see our fathers, our mothers, our brothers, sisters, friends, classmates, neighbors, and teachers. We have to feel the value lives lost.

We have to understand the horror experienced by the little girl in the back seat of the car during Philando Castille's murder.

When Alton Sterling lost his life, Alton Sterling's son lost his father. After watching the video of his death, followed by the video of his son breaking down at a press conference, the sheer imagination of losing my father, especially so cruelly, was physically painful. Just putting myself in his shoes broke my heart.

The horror is that these are not just stories. They are people who were killed by our failure to eliminate the injustice that our society was built around.

I still don't feel like I have the words to fully convey the way I feel. But saying nothing isn't an option. I wish I could change things. I wish I knew how.