Jonathan Capehart

Isn't it sad that really the only times I feel seen as an American are when I'm abroad? I'm not saying racism doesn't exist outside of the United States. What I am saying is that the rest of the world can see that I'm American. Why is it so hard for so many White Americans?

The harsh truth is that 'respectability' is the exorbitant tax we African Americans are forced to pay daily as we try to live out our versions of the American Dream.

Caught in a racial uproar, people make all sorts of promises to make amends. Whatever they do tends to be heavy on symbolism and light on lasting change.

When you're Black in the United States, you grudgingly grow accustomed to having people deny that your existence is integral to everything that makes this country what it is.

There are still too many instances of police neither protecting nor serving LGBTQ and other marginalized communities. But the response shouldn't be to ban LGBTQ police from a parade.

Scapegoating is as American as apple pie. And because there's almost always a racial or ethnic dynamic to it in our country, scapegoating is the evil cousin of white supremacy.

When you're Black in America, you spend a lot of time counting firsts. The higher the first, the more we marvel (and shake our heads at how long it took to happen.) The higher the first, the more the person who achieved it comes to represent how we want the nation to see us.

Black women have been saving this republic since its founding. That was especially so during the Trump era when their turnout helped elect Democrats in unlikely places such as Alabama and Georgia.

The indifference to lives not White must stop. The disregard for the fear of white terror must stop. And the lonely suffering in silence by those not White must stop.

Any Black person who thinks there is a loophole to avoid paying the respectability tax is delusional. Recognizing that doesn't make you any less Black. It makes you realistic.

When I came out to my mother in 1990, her first words of advice were to not tell anyone. She said being gay could hurt my nascent career. The reaction was as painful as it was understandable: Back then, the world was a very different place for a 20-something LGBTQ American.

We'll never understand this country as long as book banning, tip lines and legislation to bubble-wrap the tender White souls among us continue to flourish.

It's not enough to, say, put up a black square on your Instagram feed and proclaim that Black Lives Matter. You can't just talk about your beliefs. You have to act on them.