I can breathe, but I choke--Nia

My sister had sent me a 10-minute-long video and texted me “This is the country we live in, so sad…” I already had a bad feeling because the cover of the video sent was a white police officer and a black man. As I readied myself to watch the video, my thoughts were that I was just going to see another situation of a police officer abusing their power to assault a black person like I’ve seen many times before. I thought I was going to see something that happens in this country every day. And I was right, but for some reason this video was different. On May 25, 2020, in Minneapolis, Minnesota, a store clerk called the police accusing a 46-year-old black man named George Floyd of using a counterfeit 20-dollar bill. Once the police arrived, a white male officer named Derek Chauvin proceeded to act violently towards George Floyd, hand cuffed him, and once he decided that wasn’t enough, forced him to the pavement and shoved his knee into George Floyd’s neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, the world witnessed George Floyd pleading for life. For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, Derek Chauvin decided to grind his knee into a man that was gasping for air. For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, J. Alexander Kueng, Thomas Lane, and Tou Thao stood by while they watched their colleague suffocate a man. For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, millions of people watched George Floyd cry for his deceased mother as he was coming closer to his death. For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, I watched George Floyd, hoping that the police officer that had his kneecap to his throat would hear him screaming out from the top of his lungs, “I can’t breathe.” This alarming chill went throughout my body once I realized what I had just witnessed. I was angry. I was heartbroken. I’ve seen so many videos like this, I don’t know why this one impacted me that much. Maybe because it was more up close and personal? Or that I could hear the cries of this man so clearly? I don’t understand why this video had such an influence on me when I’ve seen many other videos that are so similar to it.  I think it was so weird for me because the emotion that was taking over my mind and body was guilt. I had so much guilt in me because I can breathe, but I choke. I can breathe but I choke because it frightens me that people can be killed just because of the color of their skin. I can breathe but I choke because I can’t take the wretched feelings when I realize that an organization that is supposed to protect us from harm is killing innocent people just because they’re darker than others. I can breathe but I choke because it enrages me that in 2020 only, over 100 black people have already been killed by the police. I can breathe but I choke because for some reason only a few of those deaths get to national news. I can breathe but choke because 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot and killed in her own home by the police while sleeping in her bed. I can breathe but choke because 22-year-old Stephon Clark was shot more than 20 times and killed by the police while standing in his grandmother’s backyard. I can breathe but I choke because 12-year-old Tamir Rice was shot and killed by the police for playing with a toy gun in the park. I can breathe but I choke because if I wrote about every single person who was wrongfully killed by the police for simply being a person of color, this narrative would become a novel. I can breathe but I choke because the police officers who kill these innocent people were able to get away with it. I can breathe but I choke because more and more every day I realize that racism and systemic injustice is so deeply rooted into this country that it is nested into the core foundation of the United States of America. I can breathe but I choke because I had to learn how your health, livelihood, and education can be so impacted just because of your skin color. I can breathe but I choke because the history I was taught in school is so romanticized to make us believe that this country wants everyone to succeed equally. I can breathe but I choke because the reality of this country hit me like a bus. I can breathe but I choke because I’ve come to understand that because I am a beautifully melanated black woman, I am going to have to work ten times harder to succeed in America than some who may be lighter than me or has different genitals. I can breathe but I choke because being a 17-year-old with a bunch of hormones and homework taking in the actuality that I’m going to have to be a breathing functioning adult is this chaotic, unfair, greedy world is not good for me at all. But it is all that I see now, on social media, on the streets, everywhere. It’s slowly settling in that this country was not made for me to succeed, but the absolute opposite. I have been so sheltered my whole life to believe that this country was designed for everyone to live in perfect harmony and only a few bad things have happened in the past. But the reality is this country was made for rich white men, and the farther you are from being that the harder it’ll be to survive in America.