Cara

“Let me state this most broadly, probably at this point too broadly for most readers: we are nothing more or less than the cumulative biological and environmental luck, over which we had no control, that has brought us to any moment.”
― Robert M. Sapolsky, Determined: A Science of Life without Free Will

“There is more than a subtle distinction between acknowledging that you should own up to your part in the pageant of white privilege, and the notion that you alone, or mostly, are responsible for the unjust system we fight. You make our request appear ridiculous, by exaggerating its moral demand, by making it seem only, or even primarily, individual when it is symbolic, collective. By overdramatizing the nature of your personal actions, you sidestep complicity. By sidestepping complicity, you hold fast to innocence. By holding fast to innocence, you maintain power. The real question that must be asked of white innocence is whether or not it will give up the power of life and death over black lives.”
― Michael Eric Dyson, Tears We Cannot Stop: A Sermon to White America

“There is no justifiable “deserve.” The only possible moral conclusion is that you are no more entitled to have your needs and desires met than is any other human. That there is no human who is less worthy than you to have their well-being considered.[*] You may think otherwise, because you can’t conceive of the threads of causality beneath the surface that made you you, because you have the luxury of deciding that effort and self-discipline aren’t made of biology, because you have surrounded yourself with people who think the same. But this is where the science has taken us.”
― Robert M. Sapolsky, Determined: A Science of Life without Free Will

“When it comes to the Civil War, all of our popular understanding, our popular history and culture, our great films, the subtext of our arguments are in defiance of its painful truths. It is not a mistake that Gone with the Wind is one of the most read works of American literature or that The Birth of a Nation is the most revered touchstone of all American film. Both emerge from a need for palliatives and painkillers, an escape from the truth of those five short years in which 750,000 American soldiers were killed, more than all American soldiers killed in all other American wars combined, in a war declared for the cause of expanding "African slavery." That war was inaugurated not reluctantly, but lustily, by men who believed property in humans to be the cornerstone of civilization, to be an edict of God, and so delivered their own children to his maw. And when that war was done, the now-defeated God lived on, honored through the human sacrifice of lynching and racist pogroms. The history breaks the myth. And so the history is ignored, and fictions are weaved into our art and politics that dress villainy in martyrdom and transform banditry into chivalry, and so strong are these fictions that their emblem, the stars and bars, darkens front porches and state capitol buildings across the land to this day.”
― Ta-Nehisi Coates, We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy