His name is Ahmaud Arbery.

His name is George Floyd.

His name is Dontre Hamilton.

His name is Walter Scott.

His name is Stephon Clark.

His name is Alton Sterling.

His name is Michael Brown.

Me? My name? Well, that's far less important and my hopes for your willingness to talk about my name is far less than those listed above. But since you're here, there is something I want you to know about me, to take away about the person I am, the person I try to be, and the person I hope to become:

My name is Mary, and I am racist.

I am white woman living in America and while I believe I certainly wasn't born racist, and while my parents taught me diligently the proverb of which I can only now appreciate its profoundness, "no better, no worse, just different," I (virtually) stand before you a racist person living in an inherently racist society. My personal values and upbringing were not enough to allow me to escape from the poisons of racism. I learned to be racist when I wasn't shown people that didn't look like me in important positions and iconic roles. I learned to be racist when I saw it on TV and in movies. I learned to be racist in the way I was taught about how and where people live, earn money, eat, and celebrate. I learned to be racist by not noticing the inherent benefits my skin color has given me.

Yes, I have friends of diverse backgrounds and identities. Yes, I love and care for folks with skin colors that range in beautiful shades much different than my own. Yes, I have Black and Brown colleagues and co-workers. But, yes, I am still racist.

At risk of sounding like a 5th grade book report, "racism" is defined by Merriam-Webster as "prejudice or discrimination" further defined to be preconceived judgement or opinion, or an adverse opinion or leaning formed without just grounds or before sufficient knowledge specifically in regards to the race of a person.

I am here to say, that be it conscious or subconscious, that definition applies to me. I don't have sufficient knowledge of the non-white experience in America. I do have preconceived notions that fly around my headspace, even without my intentionally putting them there, and even if my conscious self knows them to be wrong.

This sentiment isn't about me telling you how unlearn racism. As a white person, I need to learn that effective how myself. This sentiment is about me telling my mostly white friends that my (and your) doing so is essential to the health and livelihood of the Black and Brown members of our communities.

In this weekend's stream of oh-so-terrible news, the world bore witness to the story of Christian Cooper and Amy Cooper - another 911 call based off the minor inconvenience and dare I say embarrassment of a white person. While thankfully, Christian Cooper walked away from that incident safe and sound. It's not hard for most of us to imagine what could have been had that interaction not been recorded or had other members of the public or police been closer at hand at the time the call was made.

Amy Cooper has since insisted she IS NOT RACIST (!!!).

I spent the last few days in a state of lamentation, my heart hurting, asking - like so many of us - "what is wrong with the world?!" I also started thinking about what a difference Amy Cooper could have made if she was honest with the world and with herself. She said she called 911 because she was afraid. But why was she afraid? If I was in Amy's position, would I have called 911? While I certainly hope not, I can't help but really think about that moment.

Maybe I wouldn't call 911, but would I be afraid of a Black man speaking to me in a wooded area, even in broad daylight? Would I feel a certain kind of way if I was approached or corrected by a person of color while I was alone? I can't answer these questions, truthfully, with the same certainty.

Our unlearning racism starts with our not being afraid to own and admit that it's a lesson we need to be taught. Our unlearning racism starts with leaning in to a clean and clear diagnosis - un-jokingly, perhaps if white people had the ability to treat our racism like we do allergies or asthma the alleviation and cure would be more easily sought. My racism is a fact; it's not a flaw of my personality, but rather a failing of our society as a whole.

I am a white person who knows it is my responsibility to fix our systemic failings. I am a white person who wants to learn, and recognizes the need to not put the emotional labor on my loved ones to fix me. I am a white person actively working to call my unconscious biases to the surface so I can unpack them, label them as rooted in racism, and throw them away. I am a white person that knows I need to do a better job of exercising this muscle and practicing this notion every day. I am a white person that was born into and benefited from racism. I am a white person, and I am racist. I am a racist white person and I won't dismiss the cries of my countrymen by pretending I'm not.