Reflections on my public image

Every time I look in the mirror I'm looking at impossible hope. My son gets up in the morning and stumbles down the hall into my arms and optimism awakes. My wife finds the strength to drive to the pharmacy to pick up her medication and grace travels another mile. 

In the past week I've heard all kinds of things from all sorts of experts about who we are and what our value is. It's beyond apparent that this country's got some issues. 

I can be honest that I don't know probably any of the answers. I'm pretty sure I'm still becoming acquainted with some of the problems. 

You see, I'm Mexican (or if you ask the media I "identify as Mexican"), my wife is white and my son is black (that is to say he's Ethiopian and therefore it seems a disservice to African-Americans to lump him in to the same group having been through none of the historic struggles of the descendants of slaves which were primarily from West Africa but rather is only a recipient of the current generation's perception of people with a similar skin tone of...

STOP

You have no idea what it's like to be me. Can we just accept that? And vice versa. The stats say one thing about you, the politicians another and CNN one more. That doesn't mean it's you. 

And if their story is that the need to forgive is too great? It's a lie; look at me. Is the journey is too hopeless? Talk to Anne-Marie about that. Will we say that black and white and brown (or however else we are labeled) can never find hope and harmony in one another? That's garbage. Just ask my son.

I hope that one of these mornings America can look in my mirror.

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May God grant

Rest to those who were slain needlessly 

Justice to their families 

Comfort to every African-American (because your lives matter equally)

Protection and wisdom for our law enforcement officers

Healing for our nation 

Answers