When a house has a broken foundation, it will eventually collapse. What else can be expected for a nation built on a foundation of slavery and racism? What else for a society that blatantly values commodity and currency over the lives of the people who built this country.

These protests, and subsequent riots, are the symptom of a structural fault that runs deep in our foundation, and spiderwebs out to weaken every corner. While out amongst the people this weekend in Charleston, South Carolina - a city that still proudly hosts confederate statues and welcomes droves of tourists to come enjoy the well-preserved slave mart - I saw anger and trauma unleashed in a torrent. It was a surreal experience to stand on King St. as the storm of American racial tension manifested in a hail of broken glass and clouds of tear gas.

I do not believe that looting and violence will solve the problems at hand, but what other options have been left to the people most violently oppressed? Martin Luther King Jr.’s line “a riot is the language of the unheard” has been ringing in my ears lately. Those in power have blatantly neglected to act meaningfully towards making right what is wrong. How many police departments have been audited? How many officers have been fired? How many politicians have resigned?

In documenting these events I hope to have captured the emotion, the stakes, and the depth of the issues at hand. As a mixed-race individual having grown up with parents of different races, I suppose I have some middle perspective on race; but I am white-passing and the fact of the matter is that I will never know how it feels to be called the n-word by someone who meant it, or to feel that my life may be in risk at all times, or to be treated like a sub-human. It is my privilege, however, to walk with those marching towards true equality and peace.

I know something of the anger and sorrow of losing a loved one to senseless violence. Three years ago my cousin Taliesin was murdered while trying to protect two women of color from a white supremacist on a commuter train in Portland, Oregon. Out of that tragedy came an outpouring of love from the community, and with it the slogan, “We Choose Love.” I hold those words close to my heart and remember them with each new tragedy that occurs. I implore you reading this to hold those words with you as well. In choosing love you will not be choosing weakness but strength. Be strong enough to love yourself, to love your neighbor, to love your enemy. Let that love be the burning fuel for your determination, your action, and your resolve.

I will leave you with the words of abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison: “I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or to speak, or write, with moderation….I am in earnest — I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch — AND I WILL BE HEARD.”