As a white woman who has black people in her heart and as a human who is a humanist in my own personal philosophy, I often wonder what it means to be an ally.

Am I doing enough? Am I listening enough? Am I listening and understanding enough, but not so much that it’s about my own feelings? Am I trying to assuage my own guilt for the privileges I inherited? Am I strong enough to step away from my place of neutrality and stand with them? Or between them and the hate? The violence? The personal and professional hit that accompanies being a dissident?

There are moments where history starts to close it’s fist and a reckoning happens. The May 25 murder of George Floyd, in the midst of this global pandemic and in the fourth year of a divisive and racist presidency in the US, has become one of those moments.

This one has felt different. I’m sure annals of books will be written about this particular time and why this one murder, which is in the company of a seemingly endless list, was the one that felt different. I suspect it is some combination of two things. The first being that all of us had to press pause on our lives, giving us a long deep breath to think about the state of things. And the second being that it has become abundantly clear that there are politicians in charge that have a callous disregard for any life, let alone a black or an indigenous life.

Whatever the reason, it feels different. And one of the ways it’s obvious that this moment is different is that some white baseball players have at least acknowledged that there is an issue.

This moved me:

Anthony Alford has been very vocal about his experiences as a black man in America and all over the comments from white and Latino Blue Jays, his name has come up as the one they have talked to about it. He posted this last night on his Instagram feed.

Cavan Biggio told reporters he hadn’t planned on joining Alford in kneeling during the anthem.

“Alford’s locker is next to mine and I know he really wanted to do it, but he was kind of hesitant to do so, just because of the situation he’s in on the field,” said Biggio. “He’s an up and down guy, not a starter, so I told him, ‘Hey man, if I did it would you feel more comfortable doing it?’” relayed Biggio. “He said yeah, so that was my thought process going through with it. I just wanted to show support to not only a teammate but someone I consider a brother. … “I was proud to do it with him. I think we can all agree that there needs to be change, and I’m just trying to do my part.”

Biggio used three privileges to protect and support Alford. His privilege as a white man, his privilege as a starting player for the Blue Jays and a third one he didn’t mention. His privilege of the name “Biggio.”

One of the defining features of this baseball team are the recognizable names on the jerseys of young players. We have four sons and one brother of recognized, respected big leaguers. Biggio’s dad is in the Hall of Fame and the name carries clout.

This is allyship.

This is also allyship.

See, everybody? Supporting black people immediately pays off.

Today’s Walk Up

This tapped my nerves.

Keep Marvin Gaye’s name out of your mouth, you absolute ham sandwich.