Sure, I like being right as much as the next person. But when I’m wrong, I know how to fix it. I apologize; I listen; I learn; I change. I’ve been wrong a lot in my life. And I’ve worked hard to become better because of it. I’d rather realize I’m wrong and correct myself than think I’m right and never change.

I’ve spent all day watching the speeches from the Women’s March on Washington. In particular, I have listened for mentions of immigrants, of people of color, of people with disabilities, of native peoples, of the LGBTQIA community. I marched on Saturday in Chicago because the platform for the Women’s March is bold and inclusive. So I wanted the words spoken at the march in DC to be bold and inclusive. Because 52% of white women brought us here. And I let them.

I have often felt like I don’t know my place in all the back and forth of Black Lives Matter and the election aftermath. I am not white. I am not black. I am not Muslim. I am not Christian. I’m not having an identity crisis. I know exactly who I am. And I am angry.

Yes, I am a woman. But I am not angry for women. It’s not that I don’t think equal pay is important. It’s not that I don’t think that reproductive rights are a key issue with real health implications. It’s not that I don’t think violence against women isn’t an abhorrent reality. It’s just that I’ve been hearing about those things my whole life. And in raising our voices to speak to these issues, I worry that we drown out those who have been crying out for centuries.

Ignorance is dangerous if left unattended. Willful ignorance is utterly reprehensible. I have learned a lot in the past six months. And I am determined to learn more. Because the more I understand how the racist systems in this country work, the more I realize how blind I had to be to not see it earlier. I had all the pieces to understand and I never put them together. If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.

This is not about blue and red. This is not about left and right. This is about right and wrong. And I am in the uncomfortable position of pointing out the wrongs of strangers, of elders. But we got here because too many people like me let their discomfort get the better of them.

So I’m going to step out of my comfort zone…

• By publishing this post
• By canvassing
• By writing a postcard to my senator

What are you going to do?