Wreck what you know. Wreck what you know. Smash your melting pots. Burn your one-way bridges. Dump your garden salads drenched in the ranch
dressing of white normativity. No! Look me in my eyes. Intertwine your fingers with mine and then wrap me in your arms. This work is more hug than curtsy. More embrace than hat tip. But start there. Toast to the truth that I am different and
dazzling. Don’t dare turn a blind eye to my color, make me vanish. Mm mm. See it. Value it. Just don’t tokenize it. I’m not a coin to redeem at your diversity
counter. We aren’t crayons to line up in your pews. People love to use the Racial Reconciliation
lingo, but it’s about more than boosting your numbers and your ego. It’s not just a pretty bow to tie on top
of your building. Because there’s nothing pretty about a gallon of blood dripping from someone’s side to buy the unity between you and your enemy. This grotesque gift is the force of gravity that anchors your building to the ground. So wreck what you know. Wreck what you think you know. So we can build.