I grew up in Wilmington, North Carolina. It’s a coastal city about two hours north of the South Carolina border. I lived in a somewhat rural town on the outskirts of Wilmington, and lived in a pretty sheltered community. However, once I went away to school in the state’s mountainous region, I became more aware of the diversity within the state. The students I met were from all over North Carolina, some were beach kids, like me, others grew up out west in the mountains, and some grew up in the cities. Predominantly Charlotte and Raleigh. One thing everyone had in common was Carolina pride. My favorite shirt is a picture of the state with the word “Home”.

Last week, the news of protests in Charlotte filled my Facebook newsfeed. My Twitter was flooded with the hashtag “#PrayForCharlotte”. People were asking for prayers for their kids, who were going to school in Charlotte. And it hit me that what’s happening in our country isn’t just happening “in my country” anymore. My stomach hit the floor when NC Gov. Pat McCrory issued a "State of Emergency." There were two main thoughts I had as I watched the week unfold.

The first was, “this is too close to home.” Watching protests and violence on TV is one thing. It is sad. You feel sad for those involved. It’s not something that is easy to watch. However, as I watched footage of the protests, I saw places that I myself have stood. I thought, “Wow, I have stood right there. I could be standing there, right now.” And the thought hit me like a ton of bricks. These people who are standing there could have been in my freshman seminar class. I could have served him in my time as a waitress. I could have stood in line with her and made small talk while getting coffee in uptown.

One crazy, “small world” instance I saw, was the viral video of the policeman hugging a man at the protest. A coworker of mine shared the video and said, “That police officer is my ex-husband.” This is what prompted my second thought.

My second thought was, “this is something I can actually influence.” There is a sense of dissociation when watching things like this online or on television. I can’t stop something from happening across the country. I can’t even really stop something from happening somewhere like Charlotte, even though it is so close to home. But that doesn’t mean I can’t influence change. Watching people tear apart a city I know and love is different than watching it happen elsewhere.

I am often held back by my privilege. I feel like I am either not supposed to say anything, or that if I do say something, it won’t matter because I really don’t know what it’s like to grow up as anything besides a middle-class white woman. I know my struggles, and it’s hard not to try and compare them with the struggles of others. But there will be no more of that. Regardless of my skin color, I have the obligation to influence compassion in the community I am a part of.

I’m not quite sure what that looks like, yet. But realizing I can’t be a bystander is the first step. I won’t change the world. I won’t change Charlotte. But if I can change the perception of hate between races in even one instance with one person, I have done something. And when I do, it will be something that I am proud of.