As the daughter of Cuban refugees, I was raised to resist oppression and champion liberty. But when the Black Lives Matter movement roared into South Florida, asking us to end systemic racism and police brutality, I was caught off guard. I hadn’t fully realized the subtle ways that racism thrives in Miami, my hometown, a place dominated by a white Latino supermajority. We are a community built by people who have fled despotism in our home countries, yet we have ignored injustice in black neighborhoods a few miles away. And I — educated, liberal, supposedly enlightened — have been as guilty as anyone.
