By Melissa Word
Let us imagine Whiteness as an inherited house,
built on stolen land by the labor of a stolen people.
A shelter passed down through the generations, once assumed to be sturdy, now requiring an assessment of what’s been left to languish and rot in the basement.
What is this foundation really made of?
There’s a leak in the roof now, and storms raging outside come pouring in, they shall be felt.
Walk with me through these corridors, and let us see what we have here.