Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons

In the current times that we are living through with the COVID-19 pandemic, it has become so easy to feel like I am alone and unheard as I virtually witness the injustice that continues to plague society. This past Saturday, I got to stand with my fellow black people and allies as we protested the police brutality and racism that has become far too normalized in the black community.

George Floyd was killed by police officers in Minnesota on Monday, May 25, after he was arrested on suspicion of having written a bad check. It was immediately apparent that this murder, which happened less than two weeks after Breonna Taylor was also unjustly fatally shot by police in Kentucky, was racially charged. In the days following the news of Floyd’s death, I was heartbroken and angry without any sort of appropriate outlet for my outrage aside from my cell phone and social media. I, along with many, posted several photos and videos on my Instagram and Snapchat stories informing people about what was going on and what we could do about it, but nothing felt like enough. I longed for a more direct approach to combating the inveterately biased system, but I didn’t know how.

When my cousin from northern New Jersey texted me on Saturday, May 30, around 2 a.m. to tell me that there would be a protest in Newark later that day at 12:45 p.m., we almost immediately began to plan how we were going to get ourselves there. We did our research that night on what safety measures we would take regarding the coronavirus, mob mentality and possible retaliation by the police or opposers of the cause. After we got the surprisingly-instant support from our moms to go, we were on our way to peacefully fight for justice.

During the first 30 minutes of driving to the protest, I was confident and eager. I knew that this was something I needed to do, as it was the right thing to do. As I entered the streets of the neighborhood where it would take place, I became slightly uneasy. It was my first big protest and I didn’t know what to expect. I had heard news of people getting tear-gassed in other states and I knew that people could get easily violent in the heat of the moment. I reassured myself by constantly keeping George Floyd in mind as well as the countless victims of police brutality before him, and that was enough to put aside any second thoughts that were clouding my better judgment. If I knew one thing for certain, it was how badly I wanted police brutality and any racially charged act of violence to never happen again.

I met my cousin there and we proceeded to march down Springfield Avenue in Newark, New Jersey. I was amazed at the turnout. Almost the entire avenue was filled with protesters, so many of them carrying signs with messages supporting the Black Lives Matter movement. I knew that George Floyd’s death had caught the attention of almost the entire nation, but to physically see how many people came out to support the fight against injustice in just one New Jersey town was incredibly moving. As I walked alongside thousands of people, I shouted “Black lives matter” and No justice, no peace” in unison with all the protesters. All of the pent up energy within me, sourced from the held-in cries, the panic attacks and the hidden anger, was redirected into those words.

Almost every business that lined the avenue was closed with a sign promoting support, either reading “Black Lives Matter,” or “Justice for Floyd.” When the protest ended, many of us roamed the streets continuing our chants, and many cars on the now-opened streets honked at us in solidarity as we raised our fists.

One thing that took me by surprise was how diverse the crowd was. So many white and non-black people of color came out to stand with us for our cause. After George Floyd was murdered by the police, a lot of my white followers were posting about the unfairness surrounding his death. With some, it was hard to tell if they were just speaking out because it was trendy, or if they consciously recognized, despite their white privilege, how urgent it was for them to advocate for change. For some, the former reasoning was obviously present in the lazy “#BLM” on their ten-second Instagram story, followed by a collage of their unbothered selfies. What was worse were the people who couldn’t even be bothered to talk about it at all, or only highlighted the negative aspects of some protests that got a little too unruly for their comfort. It hurt and disturbed me to realize how apathetic some of my so-called friends are, and this has made me tragically aware of where I truly stood with some of them on a deeper level that we have never had to unlock until now. It caused me to question if any white people cared about the lives of black people at all. As I took in the diverse, passionate crowd that surrounded me on that hot day, I knew that many did.

It felt good to protest, to physically be there with everyone who is as ardent as I am to promote change in this country. Many might wonder what walking down an avenue and back really does. I know that I’ve questioned it myself. What people need to understand is that protesting isn’t going to end racism. Protesting is a call to action. George Floyd and Breonna Taylor weren’t killed for any crimes. They were killed because of a system that turns a blind eye to the death of people whom it thinks no one will care to lose. Protesting is important, and so is reposting stories of injustice, signing petitions and donating to organizations, because it forces people to pay attention, but ultimately what we need to do is cancel racism from the system.

We, as black people, need more than police officers kneeling in solidarity with us. As appreciated as it is, it doesn’t do anything to prevent what happened to George Floyd from happening to another black person. We don’t need people to be sorry or angry anymore. We need people to be willing to put in the work that is needed to reboot the system so that black people and all overlooked minorities are as protected under the law as any white person in America is. Protesting is only the first step. Now that we have your attention, now that you see that people care, we are demanding that something is done to prevent another one of us from dying.