Where do I even start? Tomorrow is my birthday. Now, this is exciting for many reasons. I am a Gemini — born May 26th. Yes, I know, a Gemini. The media always has some horoscope or astrology post to associate us with. Honestly, there is always some sort of story in the media. But, after all, what do they know? Second, I am turning nineteen years old – so close to twenty! And, I have a feeling that my friends are planning something behind my back. Kelly can’t keep a secret. Oops. Needless to say, there is so much joy in the air. Even though I spent weeks making birthday plans during the first half of the year only to spend my day at home, I am still grateful. My birthday is the most important thing to me right now. Tomorrow’s going to be a good day. I can feel it.
It’s an early quarantine morning for me. Early for me at least – it was 11 a.m. on a Monday. After Winter classes ended in late April, my biggest flex lied in the notion that I get to sleep in every day. Do most days go to waste? Sure. Am I always well rested? Yes. Lose-win scenario, but the good always outweighs the bad. I hop out of bed and get ready to start my day. I have a quiz and lab report due tomorrow — on my birthday. I am not having that. So, I am determined to finish all my work today so I could have the day to whole myself tomorrow. Pretty doable scenario, in my opinion.
I start my day by showering, making my bed and eating. When I finish, I begin my homework. I take my first look at the lab report that we have had the whole weekend to complete. I roll my eyes, annoyed with my level of procrastination. My eyes scan through the information on the Canvas site until my mouse finds itself on prompts for the report. Introduction. Methods. Result. Conclusion. One word: Tedious. I decide to pop into office hours for my Chem lab, which runs from 12-4pm daily. I usually just sit there and do my work and ask questions while I am at it. Sometimes other students pop in too. It’s always kind of awkward in there, so I make sure to turn my webcam off to avoid my GSI and professors seeing me in my bonnet and robe. I haven’t put on a real outfit in months — another thing I’m excited about for my birthday.
It’s 4:01pm and my GSI Drew tells me and the other two students who are still on the call that he has to wrap it up for the day. Drew advises us to email him if we have any questions or run into any problems. I make an attempt to figure out the rest of the lab on my own before bombarding him with emails. However, I fail miserably. Though I typically embody “Student of the Year” qualities, the quarantine in me felt the need to social distance myself from all 30 lectures that were posted at the start of the Spring term. No, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but I have made it this far in the course without draining my energy trying to watch 40-minute modules on how to use Excel Spreadsheets or the art of making a concentration standard. Crash Course, Bozeman Science, and (my favorite) Google have served as great alternatives to the “Lecture Recordings” tab on Canvas. But, like always, there are some things that you can’t seem to search up online. I end up sending Drew about ten more emails in the span of a couple of hours. Unlike most GSIs, he responded to each one of my emails in a timely fashion and ACTUALLY answered my questions. Thanks Drew. Not all heroes wear capes.
It is 9 p.m. and I still am not done with my lab report. I begin to work at the speed of light. I am determined to finish everything I need to by 12 a.m. I refuse to miss the first seconds leading up to my big day. My birthday was all I could think about. I couldn’t wait for my friends to post me on their Instagram and Snapchat stories and for my Happy Birthday messages to start flowing in. “Three more hours,” I thought. I can do it.
I soon remember that I also have a quiz due at 12. I quickly halt all my progress thus far in my Lab Report and head over to the Quizzes tab of the Canvas page. “Only four questions?! No problem,” I thought. My ego was rather quickly defeated when I saw which four questions landed in my quiz panel. The most impossible array of questions. The “which is the BEST option” and “choose all that apply” type questions. Just my luck. I head to Google to see if I can use keywords to put two and two together and figure the answers out. Not much luck there. After minutes of almost pointless deliberation, I decide to finally utilize the lecture recordings. Within about half an hour, I am done with my quiz. 4/4. Well done.
It’s almost 11 p.m. and I am finally done with my lab report. I proofread all sixteen pages and reread all 2,356 words before turning my perfected final version of Lab Report 3 into Canvas. Done. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can finally prepare for my day tomorrow. I begin to engage in my daily night routine, only this time adding a facemask to the list so that my skin looks good for all the pictures my parents will force me to take tomorrow. Once I finish up, I hop on my bed and turn on my LED lights to purple, my favorite color. It’s about to be my birthday. Nothing can ruin my mood.
One thing about me is I have become extremely fond with the idea of Do Not Disturb (DND). My phone literally does not leave DND, ever. I have my notifications set so that nothing pops up on my lock screen until I unlock my phone, and my social media doesn’t notify me of anything until I enter the app. It’s definitely helped with my procrastination and provides me with less distractions, so I like to keep it that way. However, I didn’t want to miss any of my friends posting and tagging me for my birthday. So, in honor of my birthday being moments away, I take my phone off DND and reestablish my notification settings for all of my social media apps – Instagram, Snapchat and Twitter. Just as I did that, a notification popped up.
Twitter: Taylor Johnson and 53 others just retweeted a video. Click here to view the post.
That was the problem with social media, it was so easy to get drawn into. Nevertheless, with no hesitation I click on the notification and take a look to ease my fear of missing out.
As I took a closer look at the contents of the video, I stop dead in my tracks. The smile on my face fades away and my heart begins to ache for a million different reasons.
“What did I just see?” I thought to myself. “Not again.”
But yes, again. As sad as it was, I cannot say that I was surprised. The life of another unarmed black man dehumanized into a hashtag. I read the caption again.
Enough is enough. It needs to become harder to become a police officer and easier to be a black man in this world. All lives won’t matter until Black lives matter. F*ck the police.
George Floyd
Age 46
Minneapolis
#GeorgeFloyd #JusticeForBigFloyd #BlackLivesMatter
I sit there, unable to react or really process anything I just saw or read. The man had died today. Just hours before I viewed this post. My heart was heavy. I felt like a weight had been placed on my shoulders. I don’t know what to say, or how to feel. I hadn’t been on Twitter all day and this is the first thing I see. New day, new hashtag. That’s what it felt like. Breonna Taylor. Ahmaud Arbery. Oscar Grant. Walter Scott. Now George Floyd? Who was next? It could be me. My father. My brothers.
I felt so many emotions. I felt angry. I am angry at the fact that another unarmed black man was murdered by police brutality. They knelt on the man’s neck while he pleaded for his life … In broad daylight. I am saddened that an innocent man had to lose his life over nothing. What couldn’t have been accomplished with the running of a license plate or a single arrest? Why did Floyd have to die? I feel scared for what is yet to come. There are some days that I acknowledge how far this country has come in terms of race relations. Most days, however, I get a big slap in the face on the lesson of how history will forever repeat itself. We are nowhere near done.
After replaying the gruesome video for the tenth time, I finally get the strength to exit out of the video. Still in complete disbelief, I begin to scroll through the rest of my Twitter feed hoping for some positivity in spite of everything I just witnessed. Though there was no possible way I could forget what I just saw, I make an attempt to get my mind off of it. Fail.
As I scroll through Twitter, all I see are pictures, videos and tributes to Floyd. Each tweet sharing peace of mind that hits home more than the last. Each picture showing Floyd in his best outfits, volunteering or posing with his two beautiful children. Each video shared a different point of view of the man’s life. Yet, not one post justified why he had to die. Because he didn’t.
As I continue scrolling, I saw more hashtags that came back to life.
We can’t lawfully carry a weapon #PhilandoCastile
We can’t walk home with Skittles and Arizona juice #TrayvonMartin
We can’t get a normal traffic ticket #SandraBland
We can’t relax in the comfort of our own home #AtatianaJefferson
We can’t live #FreddieGray
… and many, many more.
I don’t know how or what to feel. I begin to feel so many different emotions that I start to feel numb. I continue scrolling until I came across a post by Will Smith.
Racism isn’t getting worse, it’s getting filmed.
And that was the whole truth. I keep scrolling. In that moment, I felt like that was all I could do.
Being black is having a good day and then seeing another black person was killed for no reason. Then you have to think about/talk about that all day. Or don’t and numb yourself. It’s a constant emotional war.
Finally, I put my phone down. I felt … broken, disgusted, and sick to my stomach at everything I just saw and everything that I was reminded of. I just sat on my bed … silent. Racism hasn’t changed. We are still the target. The sad reality is that black lives don’t matter to anyone except black people.
Stop. Killing. U.S. I am tired of watching black men die on camera.
Knock Knock. My brother barges into my room with the biggest smile on his face. “Chiamaka, happy birthday!” he says. My whole family calls me by my middle name. I look up from the wall and look back at him. I examine him as a whole in that moment:
A 22 year old … James Scurlock
Dark skin male … Eric Garner
Standing just above six feet … Walter Scott
He was the prototype. In actuality, we all were … I feared for both him, and myself. We are targets. We could be next.
I suddenly catch myself. It was as if I had just woken up from a nightmare. I am confused for a split second at what my brother just said to me. I look back down at the upper left-hand corner of my phone screen.
12:01 a.m.
It’s my birthday. But with all that I just witnessed, there is nothing to celebrate. With all the deaths and unlawful killings of innocent black people in this world by police brutality, there is nothing to be excited about.
The text messages, Instagram, and Snapchat notifications start to pour in shortly after.
Happy birthday to me.
Miracle Nwachukwu || Detroit, MI || May 25 – 26, 2020