Meghan Caitlin

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Danya Kukafka
“No one is all bad. No one is all good. We live as equals in the murky gray between.”
Danya Kukafka, Notes on an Execution

Isabel Wilkerson
“Slavery was not merely an unfortunate thing that happened to black people. It was an American innovation, an American institution created by and for the benefit of the elites of the dominant caste and enforced by poorer members of the dominant caste who tied their lot to the caste system rather than to their consciences.”
Isabel Wilkerson, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents

Isabel Wilkerson
“Radical empathy, on the other hand, means putting in the work to educate oneself and to listen with a humble heart to understand another's experience from their perspective, not as we imagine we would feel. Radical empathy is not about you and what you think you would do in a situation you have never been in and perhaps never will. It is the kindred connection from a place of deep knowing that opens your spirit to the pain of another as they perceive it.

Empathy is no substitute for the experience itself. We don't get to tell a person with a broken leg or a bullet wound that they are not in pain. And people who have hit the caste lottery are not in a position to tell a person who has suffered under the tyranny of caste what is offensive or hurtful or demeaning to those at the bottom. The price of privilege is the moral duty to act when one sees another person treated unfairly. And the least that a person in the dominant caste can do is not make the pain any worse.”
Isabel Wilkerson, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents

Isabel Wilkerson
“We are responsible for our own ignorance or, with time and openhearted enlightenment, our own wisdom.”
Isabel Wilkerson, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents

Danya Kukafka
“Grief was a hole. A portal to nothing. Grief was a walk so long Hazel forgot her own legs. It was a shock of blinding sun. A burst of remembering: sandals on pavement, a sleepy back seat, nails painted on the bathroom floor. Greif was a loneliness that felt like a planet.”
Danya Kukafka, Notes on an Execution

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