Today I joined a few hundred other people here in Raleigh to take part in a sign of solidarity with and celebration of black lives. It was an intentionally family-friendly event with lots of young children. 
We lined the heavily-traveled Hillsborough Avenue 6 feet apart, each holding signs with words of support and the names of people of color killed in hate crimes.
I joined several ministers who prepared to walk from the organizing church, Pullen Memorial Baptist Church to the capitol building where all participants would later gather for words and prayer.
As a bell was rung to begin the event, the ministers stood in the intersection for a 45-second declaration of our intent, temporarily blocking traffic.
As Pullen's minister Reverend Nancy Petty finished her words, I turned around just in time to see a man flying through the intersection toward me, screaming through his windshield. I jumped out of the way and he cussed me out in his rearview mirror.
It was a sudden reminder of how threatened some people are simply by the presence of a show of equality like this; how much pent up aggression people hold.
The walk was really beautiful, with many people beeping their horns in appreciation, and strangers walking alongside us or cheering from their houses, or stopping to thank us for being a visible expression of love.
At one point I stopped to take photos of some folks standing in front of a fast food restaurant, and a group of white men in HVAC/plumbing shirts shook their head, pointed, and laughed.
We ignored them, but I wondered if they had children, and what kind of world they're trying to create for them. I felt sorry for them for being that unaffected by the deaths of people who don't look like them.
As we lined the sidewalk around the capitol building, another white man drove up and screamed "Get a f*ckin' job, you f*ckin' scumbags!' while giving the finger as he passed by all these families. I felt sorry for whatever story produced that kind of hatred.
Soon after, an older black man teared up as he raised his fist out his car window. The juxtaposition was powerful.
We finished the day gathered around a confederate monument, condemning the bigotry that built it and dedicating ourselves to tearing it down and to building a better America; one where everyone feels fully welcomed and seen and heard.
It's amazing what a visceral and violent response people simply holding signs illicit. The hatred some hold in their hearts for people of color is beyond understanding and frankly terrifying.
The day was both encouraging and disheartening. I got to see up close, the unfathomable goodness of people and the unbelievable cruelty too. It showed me just how important presence is right now.
If you're a person who believes in equality (especially if you're a white person) now is the time for you to be vocal and visible and risk the pushback that will come from strangers and from people you know, who don't yet see the value of a black life. Black lives are worth it
