When my protest becomes political, will you still believe Black lives matter?

Plus: 35 Policy Recommendations to Protect Black Futures

Growing up in Memphis, I never felt a need to either hide or display my blackness. Everyone around me was Black and you stood out by being smart and ambitious. I did not lack role models or positive examples and although I was smart, I wasn’t extraordinary; I was doing what was expected of me. One can imagine, then, how that shifts when you suddenly enter an environment where being Black was rare and it was your responsibility to show that it was — also — special.

In these environments, a so-called “elite” prep school in New Hampshire and a predominantly white university in Georgia, Black students were expected to be exceptional. We were expected to care for our community. We were taught the game where everyone plays their role in public and work in a seamless, coordinated fashion in private. In college, we aimed for influence. We had representation in the Student Government Association, the College Council, the Office of the President, the campus newspaper, the cultural organizations, the fraternities and sororities, and secret societies. It was chess, not checkers.

While my brother received direct lessons about how not to engage with police in order to preserve his…