How Summer 2020 Paved the Way
Lucy Conlin
COVID-19 updates seemed to be what was taking over the news. The virus was spiking. People were healthy one day and dead the next. To no surprise, it was all anybody could talk about. I had been out of school for two months at this point. My graduation was canceled, my lacrosse season was canceled, it seem like as each day went by another ‘significant moment’ in my high school career as a senior when down the drain. Days went by with the same news every day. I felt like I was drowning.
All of a sudden a new story quickly attracted the eye of the public. The murder of George Floyd. The summer was quickly approaching and the virus was just as rampant as before. I had heavily involved myself in the updates from the emerging stories coming from not only the news, but all forms of social media. I kept myself updated through Facebook groups and Instagram pages informing people about protests occurring in the greater Boston area. The conversations consisted of how people can take action during a highly contagious pandemic, clear issues with the United States justice system becoming more and more apparent, and the responsibilities of the people to stand up for the lives of arguably the most oppressed group in America. Was it justified to congregate in groups, inhibiting a highly risky situation of spreading an already widely spread pandemic? Would masks be enough? Would anything change if we stayed quarantined in our homes and let the proven pro-white American justice system run its course, and let another racially motivated murderer off with a warning? These questions created a further divide between the left and the right wings of the United States political parties. I had always identified as a democrat. My parents were never noticeably active in politics, and didnt necessarily transfer their ideas over to me. However, they did make it known that they were very against Donald Trump being elected and the repercussions that would come from that decision.
I began to attend every protest I could. I would reach out to every friend, acquaintance, neighbor, and basically anybody I could think of in order to influence those around to get involved. I got a severe lack of enthusiasm in response to my efforts. It felt like I was the only one who cared enough to participate in such an important event. Regardless of the responses of my peers, I ensured that I would be standing there shouting. Protesting for change.
Tensions in my home rose as day after day went by and my family argued about the ethics of the protests. My brothers fought against me with arguments in support of police officers. My parents had a lack of response to this, which I was appalled by. How could they watch my younger siblings be so uneducated and not inform them of what really goes on behind the scenes of interrogation rooms and prison walls?
Protests became increasingly covered on the news. Riots broke out, numbers increased, people in power showed support in the fight for justice. The match had been lit, the fire was starting.
Pressure against the Minneapolis police department increased. Video footage of the horrifying murder of George Floyd was on every social media platform. Four officers had been arrested, but the fight had just begun.