On Ferguson

I can't pretend to know how I'd react if I was on the scene. Be it as a protester, police officer, journalist. Would I resort to violence or force if I was scared or if I felt threatened or if I thought it would help? I can't sit here behind my computer and act like I know the answer to that question. It's easy to do that, but you can't really know.

I can't pretend that I know what they're thinking. I can't pretend to know how it feels to be Mike Brown's mother, family, friends, neighbors. Or on the flip side, to be the daughter of a police officer this week. I feel like my opinion isn't valid. What do I know of hate? Of danger? Of fear? Of injustice?

I can't sit here behind my computer and act like my opinion matters. That what I think is more valid than what "they" think – whether the "they" is the police, the rioters, the peaceful protesters, the media, the government officials. What do I know?

We're not even there. Most of us sitting at home posting song lyrics and famous quotes about love don't even know the first thing about what it's like to be in that situation. To be that scared. To be that hurt. To be that angry.

It's easy to sit back and look in and read reports and look at pictures and watch video and act like we know what's going on out there.

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