By Taylor Allyn
June 24, 2025
If I take away the algorithm that favors you—
the resume that echoes your last name—
the officer who sees your panic as panic,
not as threat—
what’s left?
If I take away your curated history,
your inherited leniency,
your default to innocence—
not because you earned it,
but because the system forgot to question you—
who are you?
If you couldn’t outrun your mediocrity
by standing next to someone I was told to fear—
if no one moved out of your way—
if the world didn’t nod before you even opened your mouth—
would you still think you’re enough?
Would you still be leader material?
Still charming,
still competent,
still “relatable”?
Or would you finally meet the version of yourself
that Black and brown people have always been told to overcome
just to qualify?
Because without racism,
without advantage,
without the built-in cushion of assumption—
do you even know how to stand?
The full essay drops June 25 for paid subscribers.
June 26 for all readers.
This is not just an essay—it’s a held mirror.
And not everyone will like what it shows.
If you’re ready for work that doesn't ask permission to name what’s broken—
subscribe. Share. Read aloud. Sit in it.