9.4 miles stretch between me and the White House. It would take me 15 minutes to drive from my cozy suburban house to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I wanted to go demonstrate during the day, but I am too concerned about catching the virus. I shudder to see people packed in together. I yearn to support the voices who are speaking out. But I didn't go there yesterday during the sunny day of non-violent protests, and I didn't go there last night while fires raged and tear gas was sprayed in Lafayette Park.
Instead, I sat perched on the edge of my couch. It is odd to watch the unfolding drama on television and to feel so distant. I found myself flipping back and forth between MSNBC and CNN, trying to follow the events in D.C., getting impatient when the camera flipped to other tense cities across the nation.
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