Why can’t the world of young men look less like Ferguson and more like the basketball game in my driveway? At this moment, my son who is as European American white as you can get is currently playing basketball with his friends: His black friends; His Hispanic friends; His Arabic friends; His white friends; Or as he likes to call them, “his friends”. There is no judgment on our makeshift court about your family, your culture or your looks. “Do you ball?” Is the only question that matters. No one is in any danger here except of maybe skinning a knee. This. What is happening in my driveway right now gives me hope for the future. Hope for Dr. King’s future where the streets of any city in the United States are as safe for any one of these boys as my driveway is today. Sadly this is far from what is true for most of the boys who are out there, on my driveway…right now. These beautiful boys do not possess the privilege my son does because he happened to be born a white man. They cannot feel as safe as he does walking down the streets of their own community. They are not afforded the same benefit of the doubt my son gets simply because of the skin that covers his bones. Many of the parents of these young men have already had to have “the talk” with them, and not the one about sex; the one about how to navigate the world as a man of color. This breaks my heart. These are good boys. They are every bit as deserving of safety as my son. But the world is not the same place for them as it is for my son. My friends, THIS. SHOULD. NOT. BE. Let’s do something to change it. We must if dare to call ourselves human.