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Man's eye-opening story about taking 'a black walk' in a white neighborhood goes viral

"There is an art to making white people feel safe."

Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

For Black people, something as simple as taking a walk isn't so simple.

Though we're all part of the same species living on the same planet, our experience as humans walking through this world can differ widely. Children see things through a different lens than adults. Women and men have different perspectives on certain issues. And because racism has long been an active element in our society, people with varying amounts of melanin in their skin face specific challenges that others don't.

As a white American, I don't instinctively know what it's like to walk in a Black person's shoes. I can tell you about the legacy of white supremacy laced throughout our country's history. I can explain the far-reaching effects of slavery, lynch mobs, Jim Crow laws, redlining, mass incarceration, and more. I can intellectually break down the psychological and sociological impact of centuries of race-based oppression.

But I can't tell you what it feels like to walk through this world, right now, as a Black person—which is why it's so important to listen to the voices of people who can.

David Summers shared a story on Facebook that reflects the experience of many Black Americans—one that can help us non-Black folks see through a lens we simply do not and cannot have. Perhaps that's why it's been shared more than 20,000 times. From the fear that any object he carries might be mistaken as a gun to figuring out how to smile at a stranger just right so he won't be considered a threat, the "black thoughts" Summers describes during his walk through a beautiful, white neighborhood—presumably a neighborhood most of us would consider "safe"—are heartbreaking.

He wrote:

"I took a black walk this morning. I took a black walk through a white neighborhood. When I take black walks, I think black thoughts. I am conscious of where I've placed my gun, my gun, and my gun. I mean, my phone, my wallet, and my keys. Because Peace Officers have a hard time telling the difference. I rehearse what I'll say if a concerned resident, or a law enforcement employee has questions about why my black body is walking through their white space. And I remind myself to make sure the law enforcement employee has his body camera recording. Sometimes it helps if there is video evidence to accompany the hashtag.

There is no way to be stealthy when you take a black walk. White neighborhoods are blanketed by a sophisticated security system comprised of nosy neighbors, Ring doorbell cameras, and white women walking their dogs. So, I've learned to notice the white world through my periphery. To be aware of the dangers without acknowledging them. There is an art to making white people feel safe. To say 'Good Morning' and flash a smile that shows confidence and deference at the same time. To being polite because your life depends on it.

I felt the squad car behind me before I saw it.

It moved deliberately. Not like the other cars mindlessly whizzing past. Its tires inched. Crept. Stalked their way toward me.

I kept walking.

"Don't take your hands out of your pockets," I thought. Or wait, maybe I should? Maybe it's better if my hands are clearly empty. But it's cold outside…maybe it's nothing. Keep walking.

The car rolled past me and made a slow right turn. I glanced quickly but didn't stare. The air is still. My ears tuned out everything but the slight scuff of my sneakers on the sidewalk and the fading sound of those stalking tires.

Almost there.

Suddenly the squad car re-emerged. It was a block ahead of me. It made a quick right turn, continued to the end of the street, and then waited. No more stalking. This was a show of force. This was a roar. This was a reminder that I was trespassing.

I kept walking.

As I approached the corner, the front window began to roll down. The occupant didn't speak. Didn't smile. Just stared. I was being warned.

I crossed the street and the lion trotted off. He had effectively marked his territory. The brave protector had done his job.

I however, couldn't help but wonder what I'd missed during my black walk. It's hard to hear the birds chirping, or to smile at the squirrels playfully darting along the branches when you're on a black walk. It's easy to miss the promise of a light blue sky, or appreciate the audacity of the red, yellow, and purple daisies declaring their independence from the green grass when your mind is preoccupied with black thoughts.

I took a walk through a beautiful neighborhood this morning. But I missed the whole thing."

Thank you, Mr. Summers, for sharing your "black walk" experience. Hopefully, it will prompt us all to ask ourselves whether our words and actions serve to reinforce or remedy what you've described.


This article originally appeared five years ago.

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He had incredible mentors - so he’s paying it forward in a big way

Courtesy of Anthony Sampson
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Anthony Sampson has understood the value of mentorship since he was a young man. Growing up in Houston, he had a mentor who helped him see the importance of volunteering and giving back to his community. By the time he graduated from college and settled in Dallas, he knew he wanted to share some of that wisdom and experience with the next generation.

That's why Sampson, an Allstate insurance agent for 38-years, co-founded 100 Black Men of Greater Dallas/Fort Worth more than 20 years ago and is still deeply involved, sitting on the board of directors. The organization matches Black male mentors with mostly young Black men to help them live up to their potential and contribute to society. By building character and producing leaders, 100 Black Men works toward improving the whole community.

"It means a lot to our mentees to see positive examples of Black men," Sampson shares. "I believe that 'What They See Is What They'll Be.' In fact, it's our organization's official motto."

According to Sampson, strong mentorship can help young people develop the skills they need "to understand how to deal with issues in life from a positive perspective." To date, the Dallas/Fort Worth chapter of 100 Black Men has mentored more than 1,500 young people.

Kynsington Hobbs is one of them. Now a senior in high school, Hobbs began a mentorship with Anthony Sampson when he was 13. He says working with Sampson changed his perspective of what success can look like in the African-American community, especially for kids who don't have dads in the picture.

"Seeing someone like this, a role model, who's showing you how to do the things the right way—how to tie a tie, for instance, or how to iron your suit pants, just the common things that we would think were normal for the average kid—often gets missed out in the African-American community."

Hobbs says attending a 100 Black Men conference several years ago helped him truly understand the organization's motto.

"Just seeing a bunch of successful black men, it really changed my narrative," says Hobbs.

Jackson Session describes his mentorship with Anthony Sampson with similar enthusiasm. Session first connected with 100 Black Men his junior year of high school when a school counselor recommended he join the organization's trivia bowl team. He began attending Saturday leadership meetings with Sampson, and eventually asked if he could intern in his Allstate office. Sampson hadn't hired a mentee before, but he took a chance.

Courtesy of Anthony Sampson

Session credits Sampson with teaching him to present himself professionally and with helping him get a scholarship from the national 100 Black Men of America organization.

"He went out of his way to make sure that I was well-connected and that I was taken care of because he knew that I was serious about my education," says Session, who is now a sophomore at Howard University, studying finance.

"I think mentorship in general is important because I think that growing up, especially now, we have a lot of outside influences," says Session. "Having somebody who genuinely cares about you to tell you the right way to get to what you want to do, I think that's important."

Sampson is one example of thousands of Allstate agents and employees making a difference in their communities. In addition to supporting agent and employee volunteerism, for almost 70 years, Allstate has supported communities through The Allstate Foundation, which partners with leading organizations and local nonprofits to address some of the most pressing issues facing society. The Foundation's efforts include empowering youth, breaking the cycle of domestic violence and supporting non-profit leaders, with an overarching purpose of advancing equity.

This Fall, in time for back-to-school season, The Allstate Foundation teamed up with education crowdfunding platform DonorsChoose to launch a new Racial Justice and Representation category on the site, making it easy for donors to help fund teacher's classroom projects focused on increasing diversity in curricula and creating a more inclusive environment. From buying books written by diverse authors to providing materials for anti-racism education, donors can directly support teachers working toward racial equity. The Allstate Foundation matched all donations to these projects for a total of $1.5 million. These funds support teachers who – like Sampson – are serving as positive mentors helping students succeed.

"Mentorship to me is really engaging with youth that need a path to success," Sampson says. "If I can get them to dream, I know that a dream will become a goal, and then that goal becomes a reality."

To support classroom projects that promote racial equity, go to DonorsChoose.


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After their BLM flag was torn in two, an anonymous neighbor left them the perfect note

This article originally appeared on 06.28.21


After Ahmaud Arbery, an unarmed Black man, was pursued and shot by three white residents while jogging through a Georgia suburb, Ellen and Patrick Miller* of San Diego hung a Black Lives Matter flag in front of their house. It was a small gesture, but something tangible they could do.

Like many people, they wanted to both support the BLM movement and bring awareness about racism to members of their community. Despite residing in a part of the county notoriously rumored to be marred by white supremacists and their beliefs, their neighbors didn't say much about it—at first.

Recently, though, during a short window when both Ellen and Patrick were out of the house, someone sliced the flag in two and left the remains in their yard.

via Paula Fitzgibbons

They were upset, but not surprised.

"Nobody prior to May of 2020 said a word about our BLM flag," Ellen explains. "After George Floyd and the protesting started, we had about 50% positive interactions with our neighbors, quietly offering solidarity as they passed by on their morning and evening walks. Then 25% of interactions were a lot of older busybodies 'pearl clutching' and hoping that 'nobody takes this the wrong way and commits vandalism' against us." Then there were the men who would drive past and scream obscenities at Ellen while she unpacked groceries with her young child.

Instead of backing down, Ellen and Patrick grew more involved. They worked to educate themselves about racism. They attended and planned local BLM rallies—including a particularly turbulent one in the middle of their intolerant suburb where members of extremist groups suddenly appeared across the street to counter-protest. They donated to BLM and joined a leadership club that Ellen says "helps students of color with special needs navigate current society."

By the time Ellen and Patrick's flag was vandalized, they had already collected some back-ups. Undeterred, they replaced the flag with one that supports a broader mix of voices including the LGBTQ+ community, which they'd planned to hang for Pride Month in June.

via Paula Fitzgibbons

Though they felt the sting of violation, they understood there was no comparison to the indignities Black people in their area experience. As Ellen shares, it was mostly "a sad confirmation of the reputation of our town."

If the simple act of hanging a flag propelled Ellen and Patrick to lend greater support to the BLM movement, what happened next confirmed the need to continue working hard toward effective allyship.

Ellen explains that a couple of days after their BLM flag was vandalized, Patrick rushed into the house with tears in his eyes and handed her the typed note that was left at their front door along with two wrapped packages.

"I busted into an ugly cry as well," Ellen adds.

The note read:

 "I saw your ripped BLM flag on Tuesday morning. I realize it could've been 'just the wind' but there are a fair number of other flags I see flying high in this neighborhood without tattering so suddenly…

So, just in case somebody vandalized it on purpose, I went ahead and made a $ donation to BLM on your behalf!

I also wanted to order you a replacement BLM flag in case you still wanted to fly it, then in a fit of passion I ordered two, so that there's another back-up, or a gift for another good person with a flag pole.

Also quick sidenote, I love your LGBTQ+ Ally flag too! As a "B," it gives me a sense of camaradery [sic]!

Do with these new flags as you will. It was simply my wish to 'fix' the torn flags the same way I wish to 'fix' some of the unkind acts against our fellow human beings. I saw it as a chance to remind you, remind myself, remind vandals and kind people alike that you can't tear away someone's humanity, you can't tear away their pride, you can't tear up love and compassion and good hearts the way you can tear up the fabric.

We'll continue to fly high!"

via Paula Fitzgibbons

The note confirmed Ellen and Patrick's hope that flying a simple flag might help people feel more welcome in their neighborhood.

"We no longer felt indignant, but happy that our flag symbol made another neighbor feel safe," Ellen says.

Flying a BLM flag in a neighborhood with ties to white supremacy allowed the Millers to make a statement against the prevailing racist attitudes in their town. It also moved them to act intentionally in support of BLM. They never imagined the vandalism of that same flag might someday invite more neighbors into solidarity as well.

As another resident of their town commented, "It's nice to know you aren't an island when it comes to compassion in your neighborhood."


*Names have been changed at their request.

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This teacher is using inclusive coloring books to encourage acceptance in her classroom

Courtesy of Ms. Lopez
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Marcella Lopez didn't always want to be a teacher — but once she became one, she found her passion. That's why she's stayed in the profession for 23 years, spending the past 16 at her current school in Los Angeles, where she mostly teaches children of color.

"I wanted purpose, to give back, to live a life of public service, to light the spark in others to think critically and to be kind human beings," she says. "More importantly, I wanted my students to see themselves when they saw me, to believe they could do it too."

Ms. Lopez didn't encounter a teacher of color until college. "That moment was life-changing for me," she recalls. "It was the first time I felt comfortable in my own skin as a student. Always remembering how I felt in that college class many years ago has kept me grounded year after year."

It's also guided her teaching. Ms. Lopez says she always selects authors and characters that represent her students and celebrate other ethnicities so students can relate to what they read while also learning about other cultures.

"I want them to see themselves in the books they read, respect those that may not look like them and realize they may have lots in common with [other cultures] they read about," she says.

She also wants her students to have a different experience in school than she did.

When Ms. Lopez was in first grade, she "was speaking in Spanish to a new student, showing her where the restroom was when a staff member overheard our conversation and directed me to not speak in Spanish," she recalls. "In 'this school,' we only speak English," she remembers them saying. "From that day forward, I was made to feel less-than and embarrassed to speak the language of my family, my ancestors; the language I learned to speak first."

Part of her job, she says, is to find new ways to promote acceptance and inclusion in her classroom.

"The worldwide movement around social justice following the death of George Floyd amplified my duty as a teacher to learn how to discuss racial equity in a way that made sense to my little learners," she says. "It ignited me to help them see themselves in a positive light, to make our classroom family feel more inclusive, and make our classroom a safe place to have authentic conversations."

One way she did that was by raising money through DonorsChoose to purchase books and other materials for her classroom that feature diverse perspectives.

Courtesy of Ms. Lopez

The Allstate Foundation recently partnered with DonorsChoose to create a Racial Justice and Representation category to encourage teachers like Ms. Lopez to create projects that address racial equity in the classroom. To launch the category, The Allstate Foundation matched all donations to these projects for a total of $1.5 million. Together, they hope to drive awareness and funding to projects that bring diversity, inclusion, and identity-affirming learning materials into classrooms across the country. You can see current projects seeking funding here.

When Ms. Lopez wanted to incorporate inclusive coloring books into her lesson plans, The Allstate Foundation fully funded her project so she was able to purchase them.

"I'm a lifelong learner, striving to be my best version of myself and always working to inspire my little learners to do the same," she says. Each week, Ms. Lopez and the students would focus on a page in the book and discuss its message. And she plans to do the same again this school year.

"DonorsChoose has been a gamechanger for my students. Without the support of all the donors that come together on this platform, we wouldn't have a sliver of what I've been able to provide for my students, especially during the pandemic," she says.

"My passion is to continue striving to be excellent, and to continue to find ways to use literature as an anchor, depicting images that reflect my students," she says.

To help teachers like Ms. Lopez drive this important mission forward, donate on DonorsChoose.

Courtesy of Ms. Lopez

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