He seemed to pose as if he knew he was being photographed. He never looked my way and yet somehow knew I was there, not only taking his photo but lost in deep thought. He stood still for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for my thoughts to come to some sort of summary or conclusion.

I remember thinking that this looked like every other squirrel I had seen in California. My college was overrun with overly friendly and sometimes aggressive squirrels who came right up to our legs and begged for food.

As similar as it looked, something about this squirrel seemed…different. Similar…and yet…different.

The Sonesta Hotel in Hilton Head, South Carolina, was a gorgeous resort. The Gullah Geechee tour was incomparable, inspiring, and impactful. The history I learned on this journey was life-changing. But I couldn’t shake the sense of feeling as incredible of an experience as this was; something felt familiar.

I gazed at the squirrel as my thoughts ran. His color was gray for the most part, but he had a red hue. His size was about the same, but slightly bigger than the ones I had seen. His tail was similar in shape and size, but the fur was wilder. I took a few hurried photos, anticipating that he would take off and be gone in a flash. After all, that was my experience with squirrels. Here today, gone up a tree before I could turn back around. It was almost funny how I kept looking for what made him different.

And yet he stood…still. His profile was almost stoic in the way he seemed to look at me—maybe with his peripheral vision—knowing I was there but ignoring my existence.

I thought about the similar shared struggles of African Americans in America. We are so different and yet the same.

I thought about the similarities between the gentrification of so many neighborhoods and cities in America. Different and yet the same.

I thought about my Indigenous ancestors, who had their lands, languages, and cultures stripped away, now fighting to preserve what they can hold onto. Different and yet the same.

People tend to do that: focus on the differences and ignore the commonalities between us, just like I did with that little squirrel.

He needed to ignore me.

He needed to stay still.

He needed to allow me to be alone in my thoughts.

How could the image of a squirrel conjure so much in my mind’s eye?

I sat and ignored my surroundings, only focusing on that little squirrel.

I sat still, only focusing on that little squirrel.

I sat alone, with only me and my thoughts, only focusing on that little squirrel.

Different and yet the same.

Selah.