During my senior year of high school, a kid who sat behind me in class scrawled “Jailyn is black. Colored people suck. Niggers love Kool-Aid” into the wood-grain of his desk. On the day I found the writing, my phone had died and I was sitting in AP Biology trying to entertain myself with anything other than chromosomes, mitochondria, and the nasally voice of the teacher. When the plum-purple of the writing caught my eye, I turned to my best friend and motioned for him to check if what I thought I was seeing was actually there. I stared at the words, silently trying to understand the author’s motive until I felt my friend nudge my side and whisper, “Jai.” I slowly turned to him as he nodded towards the front of the classroom. I followed his gaze and saw the entirety of the class staring back at us.