I am vacationing in a place that provides me daily evidence of my own privilege. We play at the pool and on the golf course surrounded by people who look mostly like us. It has not escaped my attention that a large proportion of the service jobs (waiters and waitresses, cleaning staff, groundskeepers) are filled by people who do not look like us. I note that this causes me some noticeable discomfort. This is discomfort both with the evidence of my own privilege and with the fact that I know of no suitable way to address it. I do not even have an appropriate place to say, "I see this and I don't think it is quite right". The TVs at the fitness center are tuned to Fox news. An African American police commander appears. The sound is turned off, so all we see are the closed caption of his commentary. He claims that the civil rights movement is over and that the only problem in this country is the liberals, who continue to foment division. I listen as two older white men praise him loudly. My discomfort grows. I am witness to this privilege but I am also part of it. This is the truth and perhaps the heart of it. I am aware, but perhaps not quite enough. I am a person who functions on intuition. My intuition tells me that I am right about this, that my discomfort is justified, but I would not want to get into an argument with someone who disagrees with me. Partly this comes from my natural and unnatural reticence, my instinct to avoid conflict. I don't get into arguments I can't win. On the whole, it is better to remain silent. But what good is a silent witness?