I think that you’re spot on about the “working class” designation as being obfuscating, and that your prescription for moving forward is both useful and necessary. One question: who’s Becky? Is that the white woman you don’t like? Is that me? I hear you about the sea of pink vulva-hats at the Women’s March; I would also suggest that it was a complex meme, emerging from the disgusting behavior of Agent Orange, but also from the pink pussy bow shirt worn by his wife, an obviously unhappy woman who seems to be on the verge of turning into some kind of 21st century Martha Mitchell (God, I hope so!). I think that for me, as a white progressive, it’s hard to feel authentic wearing a Black Lives Matter t-shirt, and it’s not because I don’t agree with the message; rather, it’s for the reason to which you allude—I cannot know what it is to be Black in America, except from an intellectual perspective. Why? I grew up in a blindingly white culture. Even 20 years of living in Harlem (which I did) can’t help you with that, it only puts you in mind of the much you don’t know, the much you’ll never know. There’s lots of food for thought in this piece. Thanks.