I drove by a Black Lives Matter protest in my small Vermont hometown last week, and I didn’t stop. Not because the movement itself, and the powerful need for it, doesn’t stir me. In fact, it stirs me too much. “Sorry people,” I thought. “The powers that be aren’t going to pack up institutionalized racism because a smattering of white people take a stand in a bank parking lot.”

When I’m overwhelmed by the world, I get cynical. And when I’m cynical, I typically miss the point.

The point being that an important idea is finally catching on from inside White…