In sports, "taking a knee" serves as a signifier for a few on-field happenings. Players take a knee on the field to indicate the need for a timeout. Taking a knee is a sign of respect to teammates and opponents who are injured during a play. Taking a knee also indicates a period of quite; a time when players are attentive to the words of wisdom being shared by coaches or captains. The pick-up after a hard loss, the inspiration before the big game.

Over the last few weeks "taking a knee" has taken on a whole new meaning. To some, the taking of a knee during the National Anthem is a sign of disrespect. To others, the taking of a knee during the National Anthem is a protest call for social justice.

Me, well, I think we all need a timeout. We need some moments of quiet reflection to review the plays on, and off the field. We need to step back to figure out how we're going to move forward.

Play-by-Play:
Yesterday, two black men were shot and killed during police interactions. Terence Crutcher, a Tulsa, Oklahoma pastor was shot after police video reveal his hands were raised above his head. In Charlotte, Keith Lamont Scott was fatally shot by Officer Brentley Vison, a black police officer who has worked for the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department since July 2014.

On Monday, terror suspect Ahmad Khan Rahami was captured in Linden, New Jersey after a shoot out with police. Rahami is believed to be responsible for pipe bombs found in New
York City and Seaside Park, New Jersey; areas where police secured the entirety of the weekend.

About two weeks ago, I started working as a prosecutor in the District Court system. I say this because I want to show that my perception of this national dialog comes with my own dependency and reliance, respect and admiration for state and local police forces. My work depends on police doing their job, and doing it well.

About three weeks ago, San Francisco quarterback, Colin Kaepernick drew national media attention when he stated he would sit or kneel during the playing of the National Anthem because he was "not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color."

Since taking a knee the 49ers' Quarterback has drawn criticism from police, politicians, and perhaps most notably other professional athletes. Meanwhile, last week Darren Sharper's name appeared on the list of nominees for the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Sharper is being celebrated for his 14-year NFL career, rather than notarized for his 20-year prison sentence for the serial drugging and raping of women. The NFL's response was that nominations are based solely on on-field performance. I say mention this as an aside to say that I admire Kaepernick's use of celebrity to engage in a conversation about social justice rather than purport the notion of you can do whatever you want, so long as you're a good athlete.

ANYWAY, back to the matter at hand.

Since Kaepernick began his protest, a little under a month ago, 67 people have been killed by the police, with roughly 22% of those persons being black.


Flag On the Play
The Black Lives Matter movement's opposition says "All Lives Matter." Kaepernick says he's kneeling to protest social injustice and racism, his opposition says he has no respect for our country or our veterans.

Woah, woah, WOAH. There's obviously a technical foul here. A grabbing of the proverbial collar if you will - a cheap shot going on.

See, in white washing these statements, actions, and sentiments, we (with the help of the media) have created a sentiment and a plot system that says: anti-patriotism is the new [anti-] black.

By claiming "humanism," by claiming notions of respect, and we've positioned ourselves in a way that allows us to dismantle the actors and their purpose, while building a wall that's seemingly impossible to tear down.

See, the Black Lives Matter movement is a focus group. A focus group with the mission and purpose of drawing attention to the issues and crisis relating to the experiences of black and brown persons in our country. It should be noted that the movement is called "Black Lives Matter," not "Black Lives Matter More." And yet, by imposing "blues lives" as the opposite of "black lives" this movement based on social justice and equitable access becomes nothing more than a street gang, unthankful, ungrateful, and thus un-American.

It's a pretty sly move, and one that in any other context wouldn't make sense.

For example, a person wouldn't walk into an Italian restaurants and start yelling "TACOS! TACOS MATTER! I WANT TACOS." For example, you wouldn't (as least I hope) start yelling at the middle-aged woman in a pink ribbon sweatshirt for being insensitive to the fact that "ALL CANCERS ARE HARD, LADY!"No, because Italian restaurants and the Susan G. Komen Foundation are examples of focus groups. A particular group of people, with a particular purpose, serving a particular audience, for the overall good of the community.

If that's the case, then why are we so afraid of these conversations? Of this dialog?

Maybe it's because white America doesn't feel that the experiences and live-paths of minorities are of its concern?

Well, plot twist. The first generation of minority-European babies has already been born. When then brings only one sentiment to mind: white America is worried about being the minority. (Hmmm, why is that? Do we like treat minorities poorly in the country or something?)

Just because white America is uncomfortable with the conversation doesn't mean we get to ignore it. Patriotism has become a scapegoat to not only circulate ignorant, bigoted commentary, but to displace any view or objective that we may disagree with. Perhaps this happens because it's easy. It's easy to entertain conversations of nationalism or anti-nationalism. It's much more difficult to reflect and evaluate the way we treat others and our unwillingness to speak up about a system we benefit from.

It's easy for Virginia Tech's basketball coach to talk to his platers about valor and honor, about the unwavering debts we owe our men and women in uniform, and the respect that sacrifice deserves. It's perhaps not so easy for him to talk to his players about their privilege as college students, and in particular as college athletes. Perhaps it's harder to talk to his student athletes about the experiences of people of color in this country, or talk to his players of color about their experiences at a Virginia college.

It's easy to say "All Lives Matter" or "Blue Lives Matter" because both sentiments are on both, in their most basic sense true. It's easier to say these things and dismiss the identity of Police Officers of color, or community leaders, or those members of civil service groups and social movement activists who fight hand-in-hand to show that respect and allegiance are not mutually exclusive; that there is no "us" and "them" here. To say things like the Black Lives Matter movement doesn't respect 9/11 first-responders is not only unfounded, but another example of misplaced claims of anti-patriotism.

Your unwillingness to engage in conversations about social injustice does not invalidate the experiences of others. Just because white America may serve you well does not give you the right to dismiss the fight for and the defense of an America for others. Any "others."

Protecting our Constitutional rights, and exercising them are mutually and inherently patriotic.

When due process is denied or compromised, when black mothers' and fathers' fears of having to bury their children are validated like weather reports on the nightly news -- the internet, the streets, and yes, even football fields become valid and necessary platforms for critical expression.

Criticism of the system is by-far the most American practice in our history (see: here). To say anything otherwise is an insult to the American spirit and the foundation upon which our nation was built.