
Why I March
What Will It Have To Take For You To Finally Hear Us
It took a global pandemic, and the cancellation of distractions, to force decision makers to listen. When I first watched the video of George Floyd I was disgusted. Same feeling I’ve felt many times before, but the worst part about this video was the fact that the audiences felt helpless. A man was being murdered right in front of them, and they felt that the best that they could do was record. Is it that normalized? Is the system so crooked that all any of us can do is watch and record a person being murdered, and then pray for justice? Only one realization would calm my spirit… “that no human being should be put in this situation in the first place”.
One thing I’ve learned is that trauma brings people together. Tragedy brings people together. Just this time, it is more diverse than ever before. Living in Downtown LA I could see hundreds marching pass my building chanting our chants, fists raised in solidarity. I left “working from home” with my fist held high in a crowd where my black skin was the minority. We marched to city hall demanding justice for my likeness, and equality for all. This wasn’t my first march, but in that moment I knew I would continue marching as long as there were those lacking melanin marching for my safety. It gives me chills to see the cities of Paris, London, Toronto, Berlin, and others around the world doing the same.


How Many More Have To Die?
What is my Crime, Was I not born on Time, Is freedom really Mine, Why do I have to Die To Shine.
“My Daddy Changed The World” (George Floyed Daughter)
Trevon Martin 17yrs old Lost His Life
Emmitt Till 14yrs old Lost His Life
Michael Brown 18yrs old Lost His Life
Tamir Rice 12yrs old Lost His Life
Is Racial Profiling A Real Thing. Does My Black Skin Make Me A Suspect?
In High School I was pulled over for riding my bicycle at night. In my early twenties laying in my car got me boxed in by three police vehicles resulting in six officers confirming that my tape deck wasn’t stolen. A few years later my brother and I were pulled over with guns drawn before either one of us could say a word. These aren’t the only times that I was pulled over so that a officer could run my ID to assess if I was not a threat. And it breaks my heart to know that these same altercations have resulted in the deaths of so many others.

Malcolm X
The Bullet Or The Ballot. Vote. Your Life May Depend On It
And You Ask Me Why I’m Marching.
I credit the opportunities I’ve been given for why I’ve been allowed to walk away. The all white High School that I attended, the Bachelor Degree I kept in the backseat, the out of state license I could use in any worst case scenario to convince an officer that “I’m not from here”. I’ve been given opportunities to relate to an arresting officer or disassociate from the image they painted when they pulled me over, and it’s still hard to live with the fact that others have died because they couldn’t reach a common ground… It terrifies me knowing that I could still be next.
And so I march in solidarity to demand change. I applaud the efforts of Bishop Shon L. Davis and his attempts to build connections between the Police Officers and the communities they patrol. I don’t see it as coincidence that Malcom X was murdered within the first year of starting the Organization of African American Unity. He asked for forgiveness for his divisive speeches and preached solidarity amongst other races and religions for this cause because he realized we could accomplish more united. Well here we are marching together as one and garnering more attention than any individual group has ever earned in one week’s time. We sang in one voice and now the entire world has given us its attention. It is time to negotiate our terms as Citizens of the World.
BLM
Can We Talk About It

Written By: Shon K. Davis