One day after the release of the Senate report on CIA's torture programs, the New York Times ran an Op-Ed by Army veteran Eric Fair entitled “I Can’t be Forgiven for Abu Ghraib.” Fair, who has been publishing doleful public confessions of his participation in the Abu Ghraib torture program for years, draws a pathetic picture of himself as a still-repenting and increasingly wise character in a post-Iraq American landscape.

The protests that followed the non-indictments of the racist, murderous police officers in the Eric Garner and Michael Brown cases have given me a keen awareness and understanding of what solidarity really needs to be in a movement. Solidarity is more than compassion, or empathy. It involves more than realizing or checking your privilege. It definitely involves more action than just “feeling sorry” about said privilege. Solidarity, especially when you occupy a privileged space, means using your voice to amplify others.

As Ferguson burned with a raw rage against racial inequality and institutionalized violence this summer, legendary black American writer James Baldwin returned to haunt the ongoing events with his words. In mid-August, Laila Lalami wrote a short piece for NPR reminding people about Baldwin's Notes of a Native Son, where the protagonist confronts segregation and racism head-on as a young man.