When I was a 12-year-old boy, I had a sobering conversation with my father and my uncle. Generally, it is referred to as the talk. In African American families, it is common for parents to introduce their adolescent children, especially their sons, to the dangers awaiting them in a world that now perceives them as young adults. I still remember the alarm sounded by my uncle. He said, “Neph, you are male, black, and large. Many will perceive you as a threat, and it may get you killed.”

My uncle and my father equipped me for a life in which such dangers are very real. As I entered young adulthood, the concerns of the talk were proven true by my own experiences. But, while I was prepared to survive, I did not feel equipped to thrive. I did not know how to confront the problem of perpetual ethnic conflict. I knew how to get home safely, but I didn’t recognize how being treated justly was an essential demand of my humanity. Instead, I learned to brace myself for injustice. ...