Notes to Self...and whoever's listening

I'm a white girl of Hispanic/Caucasian origin. I'm a pastor's kid, turned chaplain's kid. I've lived in four states and many homes. I had the privilege of attending a private school my whole life due to my parent's purposeful sacrifice. I've stood in line in NYC for government cheese and powdered milk. I've heard my parents worry about bills. Sheesh, I do that myself now! I have always hated the term "white privilege" because it came across to me as though my family and I hadn't worked hard for what we had. I've been reluctant to share the #blacklivesmatter hashtag because to me all lives matter. I was taught not to see color, but to the see the heart of the person. Enter the past week and everything I lived and learned has fallen at my feet and left me questioning. In trying to not spew false sentiments or platitudes, I reached out to a friend I've known since high school. He, his sister, my brother and I all bowled tog...