Dear my Black homie

Dear my Black homie,

I may or may not know you, but if you come across my post, I want to say hi to you.

I want you to know that when I see you, I see your true color – whether it's milk or dark chocolate – it looks beautiful on you. I see the sky in your eyes, the breeze in your soul, the fire in your heart. I see a world of wonders, a series of stories that I'm fascinated to uncover and discover.

I want you to know that you matter. I know it has always been a tough ride for you and has become even tougher these days, but I want you to know that we won't let you ride alone anymore. We may be late, but we are riding with you and will keep riding with you.

I want you to know that people across the world are standing up for you. I'm sure you've already seen them all over the internet, but I also want you to know something else that you may not have known. I want you to know that my social media feed these days has been filled with posts from people in Vietnam, where I'm proud to call home, educating each other on Black Lives Matter. Even I myself have learned about your history and how to support you through my fellow Vietnamese who are half a globe away. A good friend of mine who runs a startup that helps young Vietnamese students study abroad also took the initiative to advocate for the cause. I want you to see hope in future generations. I want you to know we do care.

I want you to know that I don't sympathize but empathize with you. I know I'll never understand but I've started to try. It's only been ten days since the news hit me and I've already found myself putting facial cleanser on my toothbrush when I get up and sunscreen on my face when I go to bed. It's only been ten days for me on this emotional rollercoaster with you and it's already shaken me to my core – from angry to frustrated, confused, anxious, upset – clearly defined and undefined. I don't know how you've dealt with it in your whole life for generations, but I want you to know that you have my highest respect and I admire you.

I want you to know that personally, I will never tolerate racial ignorance, and that also includes myself. I'm not eligible to vote but I'll remind everyone I know to vote. I will spend time explaining why Black Lives Matter to those who don't understand, starting from my immediate circle. When I have children, I will educate them about racism from a young age and encourage them to educate others.

I want you to know that there's still a lot that I don't know and I'm only starting to learn, but you have all the right to correct me if I ever have it wrong. I want to know how I can do better, what else I can do, or what else you need me to do.

I know I don't need to tell you but I want you to know that you're not alone in this fight. You don't owe anyone anything – it's long overdue but it's our turn to fulfill our responsibility and do our part. I want you to know that I got your back. I want you to know that I stand in solidarity with you. I want you to know that I'm in for the long run. Because you matter, because you're one of us, sharing the same race with us that is the human race.