People in power hoard social justice like gold like there’s a finite supply, as if I must go without for you to have any. There is power in withholding justice the power of fear; it stunts us and divides us, a wedge pushing us farther apart, further from understanding. But there is power, too, in love; love that would sacrifice and go without to lift another. What the hoarders don’t see, can’t know, buried away in their bunkers of fear, is that social justice given away – shared – always returns in gratitude, in love. Love that expands to fill gaps and bind wounds, to raise us all until we are equal (but not the same).