I grew up being told that I could trust police officers and that if I was in trouble or lost I could always go to one for help. I can’t imagine a world where that isn’t the case. Problem is I don’t have to imagine it, I’m living in it. Or better put I’m living beside it.

As a person of racial, gender, religious, age, citizenship and class privilege, I don’t live in the same world as many of my neighbors.

Music is very emotional for me and two weeks ago we sang a great hymn at church, here’s the third verse:

From the halls of power to the fortress tower, not a stone will be left on stone. Let the king beware for your justice tears ev’ry tyrant from his throne. The hungry poor shall weep no more, for the food they can never earn; There are tables spread, ev’ry mouth be fed, for the world is about to turn.

The world does not feel like it is turning fast enough, but the chorus of this hymn does let me sing for a hoped for future.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring. Let the fires of your justice burn. Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near, and the world is about to turn!