We're all Black now.


Watching the so-called US presidential debate between Biden and Trump from my comfy den in the heart of the heartland, I began to get this strange, creepy, hollow, "I’m being watched" feeling.


By the time the current president of my country got around to announcing he would of course not leave office if he judged "they" had manipulated ballots, I was already on the verge of up-checking my barbecued chips.


So why was I feeling this is slightly nauseating, slowly growing sense of dread? Where was this coming from?


And then it clicked.


It was exactly the feeling I’ve heard described by people of color who, driving alone at night, saw flashing lights from a police car in the rear-view mirror. Maybe it's a broken tail light, but just maybe you are in the wrong place at the wrong time for that particular white guy and you may say something, do something that will set him off and you'll wind up dead.


To me, a senior white female in Kansas, this is precisely what this moment in America feels like. There is a mean, old guy who's got his hands on the rope of the national trapdoor over the manure pit. He doesn't care one bit who goes in, and anything can happen. Any one of us can drop through at any time.


George Floyd, we hear you now. We get it.


It's simply terrifying.


G.M. Smith, Marysville