Another.

I’m a white woman married to a white man living in what’s been named the safest town in the U.S. This afternoon I walked out of Walmart and read about the mass murder in a Walmart in another part of the country, and it happened at the same time I was browsing inner tubes for a flat bicycle tire.

“That could have been me.”

That’s what you’d think my reaction would be, right? Except it wasn’t, not quite. Sure, maybe it could have been me; with the divisiveness that’s infested this country, everybody is in danger. But because I live in the safest town in the country, which, by the way, is a predominantly white town, I’m in a bubble.

I am white privilege.

There shouldn’t be a bubble. But there is.

There shouldn’t be white privilege. But there is.

There shouldn’t be a mass shooting.

But there was.

ANOTHER mass shooting. Another another another another it goes on and on and on and on.

People were murdered and assaulted while shopping at Walmart. Buying school supplies, and toilet paper, and a new set of towels, and inner tubes for their bicycles.

They were living their lives. And they were murdered.

By a racist.

By a terrorist.

And, if it’s anything like the previous mass shootings (which is an awful, mind-boiling statement), the people in power with their platitudes and their well-wishes and…