One Saturday in August 2019, parents, grandparents, and children were shopping for school supplies at an El Paso Walmart when they came face to face with a gunman set on taking as many Brown lives as possible. While this was happening, I was at Walmart in El Paso, buying school supplies for my son. I just happened to be at a different Walmart in town on that fateful day. 

Why, I asked him, do we have to return to our dorms at dusk, like pigeons into pigeonholes, while they don’t—their freedom resounding like the condor’s cry as they walk the dark streets. The ‘security’ guard leered, patting the low parapet he was sat on; ‘Come here, and I will tell you,’ he drawled, like he was any better than the unhinged rapist he was supposedly protecting me from.