Morning walk. My around-the-corner neighbor is out washing his car in the glorious sunshine. He glances up as I approach. Do I catch or just imagine a flicker of apprehension? Is he wondering if I’m going to tell him to “go home” because he looks Asian-American, even though he clearly IS home in his own driveway? I wonder for a second what it would be like to carry that fear around all the time… before I realize how familiar it feels in my imagination. Maybe it’s like how I feel every time I’m walking alone and there’s a strange man near me. And I have to fire up that fragment of my brain that evaluates, is he going to do or look or say something that shows he thinks I am there for his enjoyment? And what’s my safety plan for if he does?

Maybe it was all my imagination. But I’m taking that instant of connected experience, of solidarity, forward with me anyway. That’s real.