Amara

“People get annoyed with me, but I’m very poised. This is me – I’m relaxed. It’s annoying we have to explain something that is common sense. We just want to be treated equally. Why is there a debate?”

“I have friends that are just now realizing it. It took 10 to 15 years for you to understand this and I’ve been right here. It’s exhausting to constantly be surrounded by all these experiences that I endured in my childhood. It’s like pulling my old skeletons out of the closet. I’ve been silenced for years and years and years and now it’s everywhere.”

“I am mad at the system for having me think that when I protest I am doing something wrong. We’ve developed this slave mentality because we’ve been silenced for so long. The fact that we’ve [black people] been robbed of a proper social life. For example, I felt deprived from having a real dating relationship growing up — or even now. I was ‘too dark’ within my race and basically a sin to even consider attractive for white people and when you grow up with that for so long it just constantly chips and chips and chips at your self esteem. I know beautiful black girls who couldn’t get a date to prom, never had a boyfriend, and if they did they were second to last choice. This repeats through preschool to college, and ​a lot of black women like myself are desensitized to having a high standard or a high value of themselves due to this pattern​ and I tell people that’s the heart of racism.”

Cat

“I got emotional at the protest because it was so many people showing up for black people. There were so many white people there being allies, whether they were offering water or quite literally putting themselves in between angry cops and black bodies.”

“I want to be hopeful after seeing this radical change, but I’m afraid that things will go back to normal, we’ve seen it time and time again. ​At times it’s overwhelmingly beautiful, and at other times it’s incredibly exhausting. It’s like we’re given permission to rest — which sometimes feels uncomfortable. And then other moments we are called to action. For me there’s something telling me I still need to do something. And of all the moments this was the moment I went to my first protest, and was injured. It was so energetic. So many emotions. So much to do after that. So much.”

“There’s even more irritation with everything that’s going on while we’re on lockdown because there are so many messages when it comes to being black. If you’re a black person you can rest — you don’t have to protest. Let the white people do all the work, but there’s something in me telling me I still need to do something.”

Sat

“I think, as chaotic as it is right now it’s like pulling back a veil that we always knew existed. It’s terrifying, but necessary.”

“I’ve been pulled over and out of my car by 12 cops for ‘driving in the wrong neighborhood.’ They said I fit a description of a drug dealer and opened my doors and handcuffed my friend and I. After a while, they just said you’re free to go, but that left trauma for months. I didn’t sleep for weeks.”

“My father is from Sudan and my mother is from India. We’ve stayed in America with these racist experiences because they are the taxes that we pay in order to live and thrive in America. I’m glad that my kid is four years old now so, that way, when he’s older, he’s going to be learning about this time. It should be different for him. I’m glad that this chaos is happening now, so we can be the phoenix that rises from the ashes. I hope his generation is a lot smarter than ours and I hope they don’t get caught up in politics and help with things that are really going on.”

Piatra

“When you think of red, it’s a passionate color and it makes people pay attention. This is literally a sign that already has authority behind it. I just want people to pay attention to the message: 2020 is a challenging year. The way we’ve been watching black bodies suffer the way that they do reminds me of a time when my friend said that, ‘The black body is not an apology.’ We are not an apology for what has happened to us in the past.”

“I’ve had destructive and possibly death-defying situations happen to me with white people. The first time I went on a date with a white man, he drugged and raped me. He said that he wanted to ‘break me down because I was too strong of a black woman.’ He met me with intent to harm me and my blackness.”

“You never really move on from traumatic things that happen to you. To watch black death and trauma constantly through the media and to simultaneously be afraid of my own life is a constant state of fear.”

“To see George Floyd’s death on a screen — it puts things in a very different perspective. I can’t watch black death; I don’t want to be desensitized to black death; I don’t want to not feel it in my chest. I can read about it and I feel it. I don’t have to watch it. I know the terror that that person feels.”

Asriel

“When the deaths started rolling in, one after another, I just shut down. I couldn’t concentrate. I want to go out and protest [physically], but I’m afraid of getting killed or catching something that can potentially be detrimental to my family.”

“I think there was a shift in the atmosphere with George Floyd; there was a shift both physically and mentally where a lot of people woke up and said, ‘It’s time to change now.’”

Aminata

“To reform something that is rooted in anti-blackness, slavery, hatred, and genocide is backwards. We have to tear it down. We have to abolish the police force.”

“I’m exhausted — paralyzed almost — with frustration and fear. Why do we constantly have to prove our traumas, our experiences? It’s been right before our eyes for generations.”

Jo Siri

“I’ve been thinking about my own personal ancestry with my grandmother; there are so many aspects of black life that haven’t/isn’t documented. So even though I’m not a photographer, I was grasping every moment with videos and pictures.”

“Right before my grandma passed, I was listening to a Bill Withers’ song, ‘Grandma’s Hands,’ and a lot of things started to feel connected in my little movie. Then, he passed, and so did she. I feel devastated, hopeless, and full of grief. Then, my hope triples when I see how big this movement is.

“Well, it should’ve been this big the whole time, but now with COVID, we have no distractions and people have time. People who didn’t give activism the time of day have the ‘time’ now, and they are out on the streets trying to support and empathize and learn. It’s a lot happening, but sometimes it’s too much. I have friends that reach out to me asking to talk to me or do I have any questions and it’s great that they’re trying to reach out, but at the same time it’s on me. This is my past trauma. I’m already dealing with black death and grief — I don’t have time to explain or teach you.”

“I went to a school that was mostly white so, after I unlearned the self-hate, there was a lot of teaching others. I felt obligated to get my friends on the right track. … Systemic racism affects every part of my being. There is no way to detach from it.”

“The anti-blackness I experienced as a kid was all over the place. From both black and white boys: black girls were called roaches or ugly. When I was in middle school, I dated a white boy for one day and this girl came up to me and said, ‘Connor doesn’t want to date you anymore because he got teased because you’re a black girl.’ That was small. There were kids who said the n-word all the time and, when you said something about it, they would mock you.”

“Because of internalised racism in my community, the black men were probably the worst and I was definitely hurt the most and I felt the most betrayed by them calling me disgusting names and acting like I’m not a human. And it has definitely marked the way I talk to them and trust them sometimes because I feel like they have failed black women. That patriarchal side and racial side because they’re black men, but I’m a woman and you’re a man and you feel some type of dominating way towards me. It’s like erasure. I don’t feel protected or valued.”

Antoine

“I feel like I see my peers lose a lot of who they are to assimilate in these white art spaces, and I have to call that out sometimes. In the beginning of quarantine, I was reading one art book a day, just trying to challenge myself. I think it came from a place of insecurity because a lot of my peers have art degrees and friends to support them. Then, there was a growing group of kids who looked up to me in the art world and I just didn’t want to disappoint them.”

“This is my first time protesting and feeling like my livelihood is at stake. I remember protesting in high school and not really understanding exactly what I was shouting for. Now, I understand that I’m fighting for my life.”

“This is the easiest time to just not say anything and be meek and we’re seeing the effects of that. This is the closest opportunity to the Civil Rights era and the fact that people are still choosing neutrality is insane to me and it’s not something I have.”

“I walked for pride, and that was a big political statement for me because I’ve seen people say that black men don’t show up for anyone and I wanted to change that. I wanted to show up in solidarity because these issues are serious. The conversations are all the same and people have showed up for me and I want to do the same for them.”

Taylor

“I went to the first big protest downtown [Los Angeles] when it got crazy. It was scary; I didn’t think the police would react as aggressively as they did. We were peaceful. We were communal. They pulled up shooting people with rubber bullets and tear gas. Then I went to another one in West Hollywood; there was a viral video from it with that out-of-date police car being set on fire. I was right there: I watched non-black people come dressed in black; they doused the car in gasoline and set it aflame. It was a setup. You hear about stuff like that: Cops setting up black people during routine traffic stops, but when you actually witness this fake old ass police car that’s parked randomly in the middle of the street… it’s scary. It’s obvious.”

“I’m protesting to defund the police. … I’ve dealt with harassment from the police since I was 16. Being a really tall black man, I seem to always attract them — like bees to honey. I could be chilling at a friends house, not doing anything and I’ve experienced police driving up with guns drawn, out of the assumption that we were smoking weed. I also protest for equal rights, I was always taught that everyone deserved the same treatment: Black people, Hispanics, Asians, trans and women; no one is treated equal to white people, especially in the court of law.“

“I think everyone should have the right to be themselves, as long as it doesn’t harm or negatively affect anyone else. I feel like I have the right to be artistic and have a voice but I’m not allowed to be angry about the things that are going on. It’s as if I don’t have the right to feel.”

Imke

“I’m protesting for true civil rights, for true respect for everyone. Not just the black community but all intersecting communities as well: black trans people, women. I protest for all marginalized communities who’ve suffered at the hands of this oppressive system that has been designed specifically to harm non-white people. If you’re going out to protest for one marginalized community you might as well protest for them all because real change can only happen once everyone is considered and included.“

“Its infuriating; it’s like y’all would rather kill more black people instead of just simply treating us right. Y’all would rather see us dead, imprisoned, and suffering. Just let us live. Give us the opportunity to be human and react. It’s commonplace to see white sports fans burning cars and flipping them over when their favorite team loses the match. How can my protest be an issue when I’m only enraged at the loss of black life due to white hands. It’s barbaric. These are our mothers, our fathers, sisters, brothers, our families, and our friends.”

“If we defund the police, I think our community may experience even more backlash and violence. We’ve seen that the only way they react to change is violently with our protest. I’m not promoting anything but we have the second amendment right as well. People will fight till the very end to keep their social status. It’s as if they have a right to be racist you know.”

Jacqulyn

“We welcome our students with an embrace that says we have your back. The past few months have been a struggle because I feel that I haven’t been able to communicate and help my students as much as I probably would’ve been able to do in a school setting. It’s at the beginning of the year that we first meet our students and we allow them to vent and/or express themselves. It’s in the second semester — which we unfortunately missed — that allows for deeper communication and processing of things with the kids. So watching the world be set aflame these past few weeks has been difficult because a lot of young people everywhere are forced to see it from home and there’s a chance that they may or may not have an outlet or someone there to communicate and talk through things with. I can only imagine how teachers everywhere may be feeling not being able to intimately help or coach their students in processing the insanity we’ve been witnessing these past few months.”

“I’ve been protesting for a really long time. The way I protest in my everyday life is by showing up in the spaces that are difficult and challenging. To be a consistent example of what liberation is. When I think of the liberation movement, I consider third-world liberation; I think of the voice a lot of immigrants got in the Sixties. I remember taking my first ethnic studies class in college and thinking, ‘Oh! I do exist here.’ Even me wearing this dress was a bit uncomfortable, there’s always this feeling of displacement. It was in that season in
college that I became determined to protest against the evil power structures that strip life from communities. When it comes down to it, I’m protesting for families, women and children to not just survive but thrive.”

Brilliant

“I just read that Britain only recently paid off debt that their government determined were owed to families and estates that once owned slaves because they had to set them free. It’s like reverse reparations. The movement is global and necessary. Blackness has been globally exploited.”

“I was born in Western Africa, but I’m as Americanized as one can get. I came to the U.S. when I was 10. When you come here, there’s an almost instant atmospheric racism that is felt. You may not know it right away, but there’s something different. We moved to Virginia when I first came to the States, and there’s this ignorance as kids that we think: ‘Ah, everyone is equal.” But then you experience these subtle things.”

“God bless black women: they get this so much more than we do, but you see them [white people] try to mess with your hair; you are always perceived as an experiment or other. I remember hearing, “Oh you don’t act like those others…” African parents force school and education, that’s there’s zero room for anything else. Tattoos? No tattoos because they’ll make you look like a dangerous criminal. Hip-hop music? No, hip-hop ’cause, etc. etc…”

“So you’re getting this scrutiny from both sides, yet you look up like, ‘Yo, this is my culture; I want to embrace it fully.’ But because of what the world has put on you, it’s impossible to navigate it. I have friends who are white that sing every lyric to every rap song with no repercussions. It’s even with the most basic of things, like listening to music that I have to be mindful of when and how I fully enjoy it; yet it’s my culture. Its like owning a house but not being allowed to live in it.”

“It’s a privilege that we as black folk don’t have. No matter where you fall on this spectrum of colorism ultimately you are still black and under global white supremacy you are effectively less than. So, even when you are invited to the table and you’re treated as equal, it’s in the back of your head: ‘Hmmm, maybe I’m not.’ It’s an uncomfortable feeling you grow up with similar to the saying, “We have to be twice as good to get half of what we deserve.’ Honestly, it helps with disappointment: I’ve been to interviews and I’ve seen other [white] candidates who aren’t as qualified get the job time and time again. “

“It’s funny also that, whenever you do have a conversation about race or privilege with mixed company, I feel the need to make sure they’re comfortable creeping up, make sure they don’t feel attacked or anything like that. I’ve experienced systemic oppression through self-hate. As I grew up, I saw more negative images and concepts placed on my body and others who look like me. I was told in so many ways that I’m not worthy or good enough. If you’re told from childhood that you don’t belong, you become so careful and cautious of the world around you, you’re mentally peeking over your shoulder night and day.”

Chace Infinite

“We’ve always had highly militarized police here in L.A. We have the fourth largest economy in the world, not the country. There’s narratives in L.A. that have existed since the city was erected in order to sell the city, making it marketable for people to come. One of them is this dystopian/utopian wasteland where you can get rich in Beverly Hills but die in Compton. We see these ideologies in the films that we grow up on in both American and black culture but they’re very real.”

Ambre

“Juneteenth means a lot to me. Being from Texas and Oklahoma means that both places I’ve lived in the longest were the last to essentially free slaves. ​In Tulsa, we celebrate Juneteenth on Greenwood where the original Black Wall Street stood before who’re people buried it down in the massacre. We take a lot of pride in simultaneously celebrating Juneteenth and Black Wall Street.”

“I remember moving to Texas in the fifth grade and that was my first time being in a predominantly white space versus living in Oklahoma. It was in school there that I was first called a nigger. I remember having to control myself and my urge to fight. I remember realizing, ‘Wow, no one thinks you’re pretty.’ It wasn’t until I was older that I understood that its not me who isn’t pretty but everyone around me who’s white-washed, only seeing beauty in terms of whiteness.”

“It was very early that I discovered, ‘Oh, I’m black and a woman. I’m literally at the bottom of the totem pole.’ It’s crazy that while this pandemic is disproportionally killing black people we still have to worry about racism. I know that I’m black; my dad is a felon. He can be violated at any point, a traffic stop on probation could mean his freedom or life being taken.”

“It’s funny seeing people on social media or in life say, ‘OMG, that’s wrong,’ but where were you a couple years ago for Mike Brown or anyone else before that? Black people weren’t just invented; this isn’t a new problem, so I don’t care about your black box or little status because just recently it’s dawned on you that it’s not OK for people to die senselessly.”

“We don’t get the luxury of making mistakes. Living while black means that, every day you must strive for this near-perfect existence so that, in the event you are murdered by police, the media can’t later justify it with footage of you stealing candy or jaywalking. Why do I have to be perfect just to get justice?”

Chanti and Gerard

“I’ve participated in past protests but I’m at a different place now. I need action, I need laws changed. We are tired of fighting so much, black people shouldn’t have to protest. Our ancestors did it; their ancestors did it. I feel as if protesting is ingrained in my DNA.”

“I don’t see black men protect black women unless they are either related or attracted to them. We need protection. It’s like the video of that guy hitting the women with a skateboard, like why would you do that? And then we later see him on his instagram saying I only date white girls or light skin girls. Stop degrading us, stop pushing us down. Uplift us, hire us, pay us more.”

Constance

“My parents and I are on the same page in terms of what’s going on. We’ve always been on the same page honestly, they’ve been progressive people since I was young. I have an aunt though, my mom’s sister, who sent a video from Fox news asking our thoughts and the video pretty much was more concerned with George Floyd’s past instead of the blatant injustice in his murder. So we had to talk to her and tell her “like first of all you can’t just kill people, as a cop or a person.” You can’t be a judge, jury and executioner. This isn’t okay and it’s definitely not okay to try and use someone’s background to justify it, their background isn’t relevant. It’s because of
his skin color, if he were a white person this would’ve never happened, no matter what may have happened in his/her past. We had to tell her you aren’t seeing the bigger picture and we need to guide you so can understand the issue that’s underlying this.”

“I was listening to Stacey Abrams a while ago, around the time Biden announced his presidency and people were asking who his running mate would be. She was very vocal about wanting to be Vice President and she should be. She’s incredible. She was speaking about “how loud” she had to be, which windows this dichotomy of being a black woman in America. You have to be outspoken enough to actually get heard just so your life can be taken seriously, so you can advance in your job, so you can take care of your kids. You have to be vocal enough to simply keep your head up but then you can’t be too loud because people perceive you as aggressive or shame you for the way that you’re talking. It’s an impossible double standard and it doesn’t allow black women to exist. “

“I was too young to understand what was going on during the 92’ riots, but I noticed how angry everyone was and that there was something bad going on. I remember my dad saying that “America is a very bigoted and hateful place” and not knowing what the hell that meant. Now I of course know what he meant, my dad is a Syrian-Armenian immigrant and he’s dealt with a lot of prejudice from people assuming that he’s middle eastern and muslim. I remember after 9/11 he placed American flag stickers all over our car to try and mitigate the amount of times he was racially profiled.”

“My father would tell me that the police force in America are brutes. They’ve continuously put their thumb on people who our society at large have deemed as being lesser and they’re not truly here to protect you. He always felt that way. “

“Sadly, I do not recall what I was doing when I heard the news of Sandra Bland. I remember the video and I remember then thinking about Trayvon Martin. Thinking about the injustice of it all, and how cops are terrorists, but never doing anything besides just thinking about it or having a conversation with friends. And then there were more publicized killings of Black people at the hands of cops. It became a media staple almost, and I think instead of widespread outrage it created some desensitization in a way – and this is when Obama was in power, which is wild to think of now. I’m guilty of feeling this. Another day in racist corrupt America, so I would think. What more can I do about it besides help the people around me, vote, and cancel hate? As I reflect on what’s happening now and how I have lived my life, I think about how I sort of plateaued in my mid 20’s until recently. I always kept the same heart, but the fire and consistent activism wasn’t there like it was in high school and college. People would call you crazy if you ran your mouth about police brutality or a racist classist system. They’d call you extreme or say if you don’t like it then leave. Shit like that. I was one of maybe two people in my high school who walked out to protest the Iraq war, no one got it. Now there’s a huge community of critical thought put into motion and it’s incredible. Sad it took so many people so long to realize, but we can’t dwell on that. An object in motion stays in motion. We have to remember that.“

Mandy Harris Williams

“I’ve been feeling angry. I’ve also been dealing with this feeling of responsibility. We’re in this weird time where people feel that they are in need of some sort of guidance or explanation or leadership, and I’m sitting here trying to figure out how I made it to the shortlist of black women to call upon right now.”

“The concept of colorism has been floating around a bit. I’ve been thinking a lot about how we are paying attention to the individuals who are speaking on race and racism right now. Like, who are those people, do we accept just any skin tone of a person, any bone structure or hair texture — or do we prefer to hear commentary from certain people. Representation is key: The fact is that the people who are suffering the most intensely are those with darker skin tones.”

“I struggle to understand what this sort of time might be for someone who is a white-passing black person. The hue of our skin, the texture of our hair, how we dress even; the proximity that each of us has with our blackness, individually, brings us closer or farther from safety. So there’s this kinda epistemic grief that happens within the community where you hear, “Well, I’m black, that could happen to me,” when in reality certain things are escaped, simply because said person is of a lighter skin tone.”

“This conversation extends to white people as well. You have companies like Netflix and Hulu who have these ‘black sections’ but, meanwhile, most of those faces commercially represented aren’t as dark as those being extra-legally murdered. There’s a gap.”

“Seeing that video of the little girl protesting pissed me off. The anger she exhibited. Anger is a really complicated emotion to process I feel, to think that a young child has already seen so much and is screaming out against it. What happens next? She still has to go back to school, yet she’s already screaming for her life.”

“We need to be reassessing every space that we find ourselves within, in regards to how we can apply resistance. As I walk down the street, what is the structure of racism and how does it live here or when I’m driving home? In school or in the workplace how does racism show up? And how can I apply resistance.”

TruSound and Janis

“Things have been intense. Seeing a little of what’s been going on has been surreal, it reminds me of ’92. I lived in this neighborhood, so I’m like, ‘The national guard will be showing up on the streets soon ’cause that’s what happened before.’ I remember that: They were driving on Angeles Vista! And we shouldn’t be back here, we shouldn’t be back in this space. It’s strange.”

“My grandmother was 15 in Oklahoma during the time of the Tulsa race riots. My mother was 19 during the time of the Watts riots. I’ve experienced the riots of 92’ and now this with my family. There’s a thread. If I focus on the positive end of the spectrum, this ‘thread’ is determination; that thought of ‘in spite of, we still have to do.’ I’ve tried to draw my line in the sand when it comes to the negative end of things: the victimization, the oppression, the anger, ‘why does this keep happening to me?’, ‘what does it take to have mine and protect it from being taken from me?’

“I’m a reflection of a generation that believed that, if you go to school and check off all the boxes, you will be all right. I am my ancestors’ dream in that respect; I’m the first generation to have a degree. At the end of the day, I have countless experiences of people at various levels questioning the legitimacy of my education and/or stature in the businesses that I ran and operated.”

“There’s no magic bullet: The systemic part of our oppression remains, and that’s what makes it systemic. Even when I’m in my professional setting — I’m all caped up and walking in — there’s still that reminder.”

Kohshin Finley

“I don’t think racism is ‘coming to an end.’ There’s still 70-year-old white people who were taught to be racist toward black people: that doesn’t just start and stop with them; it gets passed down to their children. It’s going to take time; it’s going to take conversations. I hope that through both, enough people from all generations and backgrounds will become more outspoken about the various ways in which racism affects our everyday lives. The true change comes not only from speaking on racism, but actively fighting against it.

“Ruby Bridges was one of the first Black women to attend a desegregated school in Louisiana and is only 65 years old today. People speak about that time [the Little Rock Nine desegregation Central High School in 1957] like it was so long ago, but it really wasn’t. Growing up in Los Angeles 50-plus years later, my upbringing in L.A. was so different. Even though it’s more ‘liberal’ here than most places in the country, I still face forms of racism on a daily basis. It may not be as loud and blatant as it was in the past, but even in its subtlety it’s still as dangerous.

“I’m glad we’re talking about it [racial, patriarchal oppression of black women]. Black women have been, and continue to be, the foremost supporters of me and my career. It is through the support of black women that I continue to be lifted up, and I always make sure to lift them up however I can. To know that there’s a larger world where the people who I love aren’t protected and appreciated breaks my heart. Even on my end, as much as I show up, I know I can show up even more for my people, specifically black women (trans inclusive.)”

Jacky

“I’ve been going back and forth like crazy. I want to be out there with my people but I also don’t want to get sick, it’s a pandemic. It’s been really hard. You have to pick a side. You’re either with us or against.”

“Black women are the most marginalized people in the world. As black men, we have the sole responsibility to protect our women and our families. There’s still so many layers to things we have to figure out in the concerns of women, LGBTQ community. Generally speaking, accountability is a lost art. It starts in your inner circle.”

“It goes back to what I said earlier about the racist stuff: At this point you have to make a choice, one side or the other; you’re either not fucking with this rapist stuff or you are. You’re either condoning or you aren’t, theres no middle ground in rape. Be the change you wanna see man, it’s that simple.”

Kenyon

“I appreciate the quarantine. What’s been happening isn’t new to us. We’ve faced oppression for centuries; so it’s interesting to see the world’s reaction now that everyone has been forced to stay inside and acknowledge it. There’s no more playing sides because you’re now out of the option of being oblivious.”

“I’m from Watts, the Jordan Downs projects. We grew up with cops who knew our names, our families, they would come to our sports games and even ride through the neighborhood and pass out baseball cards to us. But I also saw those same cops, who grew up with us, kill my homies.”

“In regards to black men protecting black Women, because our music defines culture, that has caused a huge lack in accountability — because we’ve grown up hearing a lot of toxicity perpetuated in what we are consuming/listening to. So it’s difficult to expect it to be present in inner circles when there are constantly more detrimental ideals thriving. We gotta start being honest, respectful, honorable — and start working on changing the narrative.”

Wo’se Kofi

“We’re under a generational curse. In terms of true liberation, we’ve been fighting for this for generations with little-to-no results. Today feels different; people are fed up but with everything on pause. There seems to be more focus. We get to really look at what’s going on, a lot of truths and mistruths are being revealed and I think more and more people are understanding that we’ve been demanding liberation from a government we know we can’t trust.”

Jamaiel and Wo’se Kofi

“I’ve been all over everywhere: There is no other black neighborhood like this. These protests are necessary. This stuff has been happening and it just keeps happening and happening. In the United States we don’t have true liberty and freedom.”

Asia

“This has been hard on my mental health. Jumping between feeling like I can’t do anything to help and then feeling like I’m not doing enough.”

“My first protest was cool at first: You felt the community; people were passing markers and bottles of water around. It was beautiful; they had free food: vegan pasta! That doesn’t mean the cops didn’t come fuck it up. They definitely did.”

“I have really bad anxiety. I really stress about the people in my life. My brother, my boyfriend: They’re black men, and if I lost them, I’d lose my shit. My brother just got in a bad accident, and I remember them saying LAPDs on the way and I was worried… he just got out of this accident. I want to think that the people that are to help are actually there to help.”

“As a black woman, I feel like the easiest target. It’s terrible. I’m tired, it seems like no one has the back or interest of the black woman but the black woman. We’re alone.”

Diego

“I was tying my shoe as the tear gas canister was thrown, then ignited on my hand, as I tried throwing out of reach. My hand was melting for a second.”

“True liberation is met when we end this cycle of reform. Abolition is the politic that will bring transformative change, politics only reinforce our dependence on the system. Imagine greater. Give land back to the people it historically belongs to. Existing at the intersections of my identity while in this country I leverage my privilege and put myself on the line, I protest, I organize, I speak out and to only be met with reform, incremental change is unacceptable.“

“As someone who is queer and trans, there’s many times I’ve been approached by police intending to coerce me into sex work — which becomes harassment when I choose to disengage out of concern for my own safety.”

“Our administration is actively trying to remove our civil rights. Before the recent healthcare were revoked, they was an attempt on Title VII right which would sanction gender based discrimination in the workplace. This is also only within the legislature; we need to address the urgency of community in detention centers and houseless communities.”

Waraire and Sons

“​As it relates to Trump, even after the Central Park Five, many in the black Community and hip-hop saw Trump as a pacesetter, a businessman worth listening to.​ You got Nelly and Raekwon, who’ve made songs about him, Jay-Z talked about being in Trump Tower. Russell Simmons and Trump ran together in New York; he was very accessible to our community. At one point in time, a lot of people thought he was the model to look at.”

“​We (my wife & I) have our relationship, these children, this home and other assets. COVID or not, we have to provide, period! If we slack a tiny bit, our situation shifts tremendously.​ ​The quarantine has been all about growth. As a business owner, I’ve been forced to look at my blueprint and ask: What’s next?”

“I have a business. I don’t want [my sons Miles and Mason] working for anyone. I want them to work for me and if they decide to work for someone else or themselves it’ll be outta choice not necessity. … We put so much time into our kids, like your parents did with you. We’re up reading books at night, teaching them their math, sciences, their history, knowledge of themselves. And with all of that, they’re literally one encounter away from being here or not — if they run into a police officer.”

SixSev

“I am an extension of Harun Coffee and the “it takes a village” motto that Chace Infinite has instilled in Leimert Park. As the mayor of Leimert, my mission is to Make Crenshaw Great Again.”

“My first protest was in 2013 for Trayvon Martin. I remember it vividly because we were also screaming #FreeBoosie, it was def an era.”

“I think racism is a mental illness. Change is a long, hard fight, and we’re just doing the part that our generation will be responsible for in history. I salute everyone on the frontline.”

“I went to a couple of protests in downtown L.A. and one in Palmdale for the lynching of Robert Fuller. My annual event, Pray for the Hood, was a different kind of protest this year that I organized with my community. It was to celebrate Juneteenth and share joy and love as the remedy to all the chaos in the world. [We estimate that] over 10,000 people attended.”

“Nip sparked a passion in all of us to do more and live as the best version of ourselves. I was honored by councilman Marqueece Harriss-Dawson for my contributions to education and art in the Crenshaw District and I believe that is a testament to Nipsey’s impact on me and my generation.”

“I lost two friends to police brutality: RIP Jimmy Briggs, RIP Ryan Joseph. It’s hard because they show us these images over and over, it becomes normalized and you’re almost numb to it. I go hard for those names and divine spirits, making sure they are never forgotten.”

Tiffany and Family

“Quarantine has been quite transformational. It was great to have a pause. I got into journaling, I did a three-day silent treatment and that was wonderful. Sometime ago I experienced some trauma in my family, as a result I’ve now become the legal guardian of my four nieces and nephews.”

“This has been a really, really powerful time. It almost feels like the loss of our beautiful brothers and sisters is starting to pave the way for the greater good; these ultimate sacrifices are not meaningless. I’m humbled. I’m in awe and I’m deeply optimistic that these moments will finally create the change that we’ve been edging for bit by bit for the longest of times.”

“The right direction is a complete tearing down of the innumerable systems that have been holding us in place and rebuilding them brick by brick. Everyone gets their hands dirty to do the work, everyone.”

“When I say rebuild the system, I don’t really mean defund the police. We have to firstly look at suppression and then oppression. They’re two different things. Suppression is omitting a ‘people’ from a conversation. … Oppression is evil and cruel acts against something or someone. These instances would naturally be Breonna Taylor or George Flyod, martyrs that have unfortunately been created….”

“Our entire world is in pain. There are so many of us in pain. Racism, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, any type of abuse is a symptom. It’s not the root cause; it’s a symptom. So if you trace the symptom back far enough to its root, you find that in all those situations there is an absence of love. We’ve seen too many stereotypical tv shows with the school bully that’s facing abuse at home. When I look at the people that are doing this work [police], or enacting these hate crimes, I see them as what they are: broken people. If we put the resources that we have in war into helping heal people the world would be a different place. It’s not natural to hate people, it’s a symptom from being disconnected from your light.”