The Emmy’s were this weekend and “The People V. OJ Simpson, An American Crime Story” was the runaway winner of the night. The mini-series took home five golden statues, and also found a home on my Apple TV queue.

Watching the series was like taking a time-machine back to the 90s in my Philadelphia High School, minus the mullet. I’ll never forget watching the verdict in my freshman English class as the black students were cheering and the white students were jeering—and that is when I realized that this country may be called the United States but it doesn’t feel united.

It reminds me of other times where racism was the silent juror in the room.

I remember when I was a boy and wanted to bring my friend to the swim club my family attended. I quickly came to learn that I couldn't bring that type of guest because my friend happened to be Black. I learned that day that private swim club meant exclusive swim club.

I remember when I was in college and walking into a J. Crew with my then-girlfriend who asked me if we can leave. I said, “Why do you want to leave we just got here.” She said “Because the way people keep looking at me is making me feel uncomfortable.” I learned that day the color of my girlfriend's skin was darker than mine.

I remember when I was on a staff at a church as a youth pastor and riding in a car with a board member's son and he mentioned that slavery wasn't that bad, that slaves had shelter and food. He wasn't kidding. And I am not kidding that I only lasted six months at that church that felt like six years. I learned that day what children learn is often caught rather than taught.

I am thankful for my parents who modeled for me that you love your neighbor regardless of the color of their skin. When my mom would give her coworkers a ride to work when they missed the bus. When my dad would invite our neighbors to watch an Eagles game, and we would cheer altogether; black, white and Eagle’s green.

Growing up a white kid in a black neighborhood was not always easy but it was one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given because it allowed me to see people for who they are not by labels that society wants you to see.

Fast-forward over twenty years later and although OJ is no longer on trial America still is.

Another shooting another reaction.

Another protest another backlash.

Words and cities that at the very mention bring reactions.

Often times different reactions based on different shades of melanin.

It breaks my heart to see this country so divided when people have died to make us free.

Sometimes it feels like a prison we just don't see the bars.

May we try not to win the point but win a friend.

May we be known by our love and not by our zipcode.

May we walk a mile in another person’s shoes and find ourselves going in the same direction.

Love help us stand united.