The difference between me and you is that I can acknowledge Karmelo Anthony probably shouldn’t have brought a knife to a school event while also recognizing that carrying a knife, by itself, wasn’t a crime and doesn’t automatically make someone violent, criminal, or malicious. According to reports, the knife was a 6-in-1 multi-tool with a 3.5” blade, flashlight, window breaker, bottle opener, fire starter, and card opener. The knife is sold at Walmart for $13 from the Ozark Trail camping and hunting line. Karmelo and his defense said many of the athletes used this to clean their cleats.

I know plenty of white people who carry knives and firearms every day—including at school functions, sporting events, and places of business. Possessing a weapon alone is not proof of intent nor does it make someone inherently violent or criminal.

The difference between me and you is that I refuse to continue to place the burden of peace on Black children, when White kids continue to act with impunity. You ask why did Karmelo bring a knife to a school event, I ask why did Austin greet him with such hostility. You ask why didn’t Karmelo leave when Austin asked him to, I ask why did Austin feel entitled and empowered to demand that Karmelo “just comply” and leave. You ask why did Karmelo stab Austin, I ask why did Austin attack Karmelo. You blame Karmelo’s parents, I say just listen to Jeff Metcalf interviews and it tells us everything we need to know.

The difference between me and you is that I can be devastated that a teenager lost his life while also questioning whether another teenager deserves to spend the rest of his life labeled a murderer for an act that I don’t believe had the element of malice aforethought. I believe Karmelo Anthony when he says he was in fear for his life.

I can grieve the death of a child without demanding vengeance for another.

I can advocate for Karmelo Anthony without celebrating Austin Metcalf’s death.

The difference between me and you is that I can recognize systemic racism without hating white people and without believing every discussion of race is an attack on me.

I can acknowledge that Black Americans have been and continue to be disproportionately harmed by many of our systems and institutions while also recognizing their extraordinary resilience, perseverance, and contributions despite centuries of discrimination, marginalization, and exclusion.

The difference between me and you is that I can support policies like reparations without making myself the center of the narrative. Not every discussion about racial injustice is about me.

I can listen to and validate the experiences of Black Americans without dismissing the struggles of poor White Americans.

I recognize my privilege despite growing up poor and without my biological mother in the United States of America.