AP Photo/Ted Shaffrey
In America, we often ask the question, “Where were you on 9/11?” or “What were you doing on 9/11?” It was a defining, and quite frankly, scary and traumatizing moment for our country. Nearly 19 years later, in the middle of a worldwide pandemic, leading up to one of the most polarized presidential elections, the nation watched George Floyd, in the last moments of his life, cry out for his mama while an officer held a knee to his neck.
And that’s the light version of the facts.
It was a moment where the question of “What were you doing when George Floyd died?” is answered very similarly by most Americans. We were sitting at home, watching it on TV or one of our electronic devices. What had been a traumatizing and recurring moment for Black Americans for years now became a reality for the entire nation to face head on.
I always reflect how for some people, Trayvon Martin’s death caused them to pick up the mantle for the fight for racial justice. For a lot of people in Texas, it was Sandra Bland. For me personally, it was Michael Brown. But for thousands of others, it was George Floyd’s death.
Everyone was shook and an outcry for justice rang around the world. There were protests (and riots). There were think pieces, webinars, critical discussions, and calls for action. Schools and even corporations were being held accountable for the role they played towards the perpetuation of racial inequity in this country. The judicial and justice system was scrutinized and under the microscope to determine what would happen next. America was forced to reckon with the notion that Black lives did not matter under its system.
2020 and the year following sparked policy shifts. Law enforcement agencies banned the use of chokeholds and required officers to intervene and/or report improper use of force. Businesses/corporations pledged millions of dollars to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) efforts. The first Black employees were hired or promoted to new leadership positions. Educational institutions created task forces, increased admissions/scholarship programs for students of color, and invested more funds towards their DEI offices.
Personally, this was when I realized I began to shift from an activist to advocacy role. I had just graduated from law school (I finished my last class in my grandparents’ home and celebrated graduation virtually in my godmother’s living room due to the pandemic) and I was so frustrated that I couldn’t get to any of the protests.
I remember calling my sister one night—she lives in Austin—and asking her to drive me to Minnesota so I could be right in the center of the movement. I wanted to use my physical body in some way but couldn’t. Social media became my outlet, as it did for many others. I committed myself to educating my network about joining the movement for Black lives. My blog posts, “#JusticeforFloyd: What To Do Next?” and “As A Black Person, What Are You Doing For Black Lives?” provided insight for many. I launched my nonprofit, Engaged Voters, to increase the number of informed, young, Black voters in Houston. What I couldn’t do physically, I channeled via other methods.
I look back on those years feeling nostalgic about the energy we felt as Black people, that something would finally shift. Derek Chauvin was not only indicted but found guilty and sentenced to jail for George Floyd’s death. New bills were introduced and passed at all levels of government. Many allies were coming to the forefront.
But it was short lived.
In 2024, I am disgusted by the backlash in policies and politics that we are experiencing, only four years after George Floyd’s death and the progressive momentum of this country. Instead of America embracing racial equality, there has been a major effort to roll hard-fought gains back. Last year, the Stanford Social Innovation Review featured an article by Angela Glover Blackwell, “How We Achieve a Multiracial Democracy,” in which she highlights the progress and promise we experienced after George Floyd’s death, yet discusses the root issues that will continue to stop the progress from moving forward.
Texas, George Floyd’s home state, is arguably ground zero of the backlash. Lawmakers have passed legislation that bans Critical Race Theory and DEI efforts in schools. Local school districts are banning books related to racial justice and equity. Progressive programs such as Guaranteed Income that aim to create economic mobility are being sued and halted. If local governments with certain populations want to reduce law enforcement budgets for any reason, they must hold an election to gain approval from voters.
Even more, progressive voter efforts such as drive-thru voting is now prohibited. Most recently, Harris County voted to pause funding for its alternative response program for law enforcement calls related to mental health concerns, just days before the anniversary of George Floyd’s death, and only a few years after the County first voted to seek implementation of the program on the day of George Floyd’s funeral.
At the federal level, the George Floyd Act was never passed. A lawsuit last year successfully ended affirmative action in college admissions and there are many lawsuits aimed at ending funding for Black owned/minority businesses and policies. Colleges and universities are ending scholarship and internship programs for Black students and people of color. There are still countless deaths at the hands of law enforcement, but very few indictments and sentences.
I wish I could write that America has come a long way since George Floyd, but sadly I’m afraid that I can only say that we have regressed. While we honor his legacy each year with events and discussions, we must also honor his legacy with policy change. Was the movement all in vain, to appease the masses in that moment? There is yet another polarized, presidential election ahead of us. Will it take another moment where America has to ask itself, “What were you doing in 2024?” or will we address the racial inequity in this country once and for all?
