I’ve Decided…to PROTEST
It was on Sunday, May 31st, 2020 that I decided to venture outside despite not only the news of the COVID-19 but also the news of the protests all over the country. I decided to go visit a few of my close friends in Queens. Before leaving, I contemplated my safety. I contemplated whether or not I should bring a knife, and if I should take the train or bus. After further reflection, I left the knife in my drawer and thought it would be better to take a Lyft since it felt the safest even though you never know who you’ll encounter as your driver.
When my Lyft driver finally arrived, I opened the door to a female driver. We had our causal greeting but then her rage spilled over at once. She began speaking to me about what was going on in the news about the protests and how unjust everything was. At first, I really wanted the conversation to be over. I was worried that if I said the wrong thing, especially not knowing this woman well enough, I could possibly be thrown out of the car or even worse. Maybe that was me overthinking the possibilities, even so, I was still worried about my safety. However, as she continued to speak I realized one thing was clear. She was angry and upset and wasn’t afraid to speak about it.
Before I had left my apartment in Brooklyn, I had been scrolling through Facebook. Every post I saw were videos about the protests and what the police were doing. My eyes were still red after I had seen it all. My Lyft driver was not only angry but wanted to have a conversation about it. After some time, I began to allow myself to feel that anger too, and began to really go in deep with her in the conversation. For so many years I’ve experienced tablespoons of racism, especially while living in the city. I’ve heard my own sisters, father, and friends tell me about their own experiences and it hurts. There’s only so many times you can cry about it before your eyes go from water to red. For so many years I didn’t allow myself to get angry. I didn’t want to turn into the “angry black women” my best friend’s roommate had called me when I went to visit him in college.
That day I allowed myself to not only feel that anger but to talk about it which I believe to be the most important thing. For the first time in my life, I felt that I was in a safe space to talk about everything that was going on outside of my family. Even if that meant that it had to be in a Lyft.
When I had arrived at my destination I felt so much better. My driver and I parted in the most sincere way, wishing each other well and to be safe. As my friend and I had met up and walked to the park, we talked about what was also going on in the world. I couldn’t help but notice the stares that we got as we walked down the street. I found myself wondering if it was my black skin or his white skin or maybe the fact that people just wanted something to look at these days. I tried to ignore them.
Before going to the park, we decided to stop and get some food. After placing our order, we heard the noise of sirens and people hollering. We looked out of a nearby window. A police car had pulled up in the middle of the intersection of the street to stop traffic. She allowed several cars to go by that looked as if they were government cars that had signs that read “Support Small Businesses” on them. I thought it was funny how those protestors had the police’s full support.
After we had gotten our food we finally ventured off into the park. It was a beautiful day and many people were outside. We sat by the water, ate, and met up with the rest of our friends. We stayed there for six hours enjoying every minute of it. Soon after the sun had begun to go down and the once warm weather began to grow colder. We packed up our things and walked once of our friends to her car. We decided to linger for a while before we parted ways. It had been so long since we’ve all last seen each other so we wanted to cherish the moment.
Suddenly we heard a banging sound. People started to emerge from their homes and began to clap. A car rode by with an elderly couple in it. The old lady in the passenger seat had a pot in her hand with a wooden spoon in the other and was banging on it as they drove by. At the time I had no idea what it meant, and that scared me. As I looked around the neighborhood I noticed that the majority of the people in it were white. I really didn’t want to jump to conclusions but I was once again worried about my safety. My friends noticed my anxiousness and tried to make sure that I was okay but I still felt unsafe because I had no idea what was going on. I decided to leave and go home. It wasn’t until later that evening that one of my friends had called me and I told him what had happened that he said that they were probably clapping because of the nurses for COVID-19.
I felt silly for jumping to conclusions. I even texted one of my friends and apologized for leaving the way I did. To which he responded that there was no reason for me to feel sorry and the fact that I felt the way that I did makes everything that is going on serious and important. From that moment I decided to go to the protests despite my fear of my safety. I was tired of being scared.
