On the third day we arose and stumbled out to the beach in the fog and mist to gather stones for painting the names of Black people killed by police. As we painted, we talked of their stories, their lives, their mothers and grandmothers, grieving. We are reading How to Be an Antiracist, by Ibram X. Kendi. Such a genius, his. He builds our understanding, small layer by small layer, with poetic repetitions and meticulous footnotes. We are grateful for his fine writing, his clarity, the lifting of our ignorance and the deepening of our commitment to be what he shows us how to be.