【文章內(nèi)容簡(jiǎn)介】 opic to talk about. I know that so many of us hoped by electing ourfirst Black president, we had turned the page on this chapter in our history.
　　I know there are truths we donamp。39。t like to say out loud or discuss with our children. But we haveto. Thatamp。39。s the only way we can possibly move forward together.
　　Race remains a deep fault line in America. Millions of people of color still experience racism intheir everyday lives.
　　Here are some facts.
　　In America today, Blacks are nearly three times as likely as whites to be denied a mortgage.
　　In 2020, the median wealth of Black families was around $11,000. For white families, it wasmore than $134,000.
　　Nearly half of all Black families have lived in poor neighborhoods for at least two generations,pared to just 7 percent of white families.
　　African American men are far more likely to be stopped and searched by police, charged withcrimes, and sentenced to longer prison terms than White men, 10 percent longer for the samecrimes in the federal system.
　　In America today, our schools are more segregated than they were in the 1960s.
　　How can any of that be true? How can it be true that Black children are 500 percent more likelyto die from asthma than white kids? Five hundred percent!
　　More than a half century after Dr. King marched and Rosa Parks sat and John Lewis bled, afterthe Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act and so much else, how can any of these things betrue? But they are.
　　And our problem is not all kooks and Klansman. Itamp。39。s also in the cruel joke that goesunchallenged. Itamp。39。s in the offhand ments about not wanting amp。quot。those peopleamp。quot。 in theneighborhood.
　　Letamp。39。s be honest: For a lot of wellmeaning, openminded white people, the sight of a youngBlack man in a hoodie still evokes a twinge of fear. And news reports about poverty and crimeand discrimination evoke sympathy, even empathy, but too rarely do they spur us to actionor prompt us to question our own assumptions and privilege.
　　We canamp。39。t hide from any of these hard truths about race and justice in America. We have toname them and own them and then change them.
　　You may have heard about a woman in North Carolina named Debbie Dills. Sheamp。39。s the one whospotted Dylann Roofamp。39。s car on the highway. She could have gone on about her business. Shecould have looked to her own safety. But thatamp。39。s not what she did. She called the police and thenshe followed that car for more than 30 miles.
　　As Congressman Jim Clyburn said the other day, amp。quot。There may be a lot of Dylann Roofs in theworld, but there are a lot of Debbie Dills too. She didnamp。39。t remain silent.amp。quot。
　　Well, neither can we. We all have a role to play in building a more tolerant, inclusive society,what I once called amp。quot。a village,amp。quot。 where there is a place for everyone.
　　You know, we Americans may differ and bicker and stumble and fall, but we are at our bestwhen we pick each other up, when we have each otheramp。39。s back.
　　Like any family, our American family is strongest when we cherish what we have in mon,and fight back against those who would drive us apart.
　　Mayors are on the front lines in so many ways. We look to you for leadership in time of look to you every day to bring people together to build stronger munities.
　　Many mayors are part of the . Coalition of Cities against Racism and Discrimination,launched by this conference in 2020. I know youamp。39。re making reforms in your own munities,promoting tolerance in schools, smoothing the integration of immigrants, creating economicopportunities.
　　Mayors across the country also are doing all they can to prevent gun violence and keep ourstreets and neighborhoods safe.
　　And thatam