In Baton Rouge, protest organized by high schoolers inspires hope
Lede New Orleans Fellow Victoria Clark describes a “moment of unity” as her hometown marched on Louisiana State Capitol in peaceful protest in the wake of George Floyd’s death.
By Victoria Clark
I didn’t cry when I first watched the video of the white Minneapolis police officer’s knee on George Floyd’s neck, ultimately killing Floyd. I instead felt anger like many of my peers. Even so, when I heard that there would be a march in honor of Floyd in my hometown of Baton Rouge, I was unsure of where I stood at first.
My first thought was concern for the health of people who look like me. We are currently experiencing a pandemic that is killing Black people at a disproportionate rate. Nearly 54% of people who have died from covid-19 in Louisiana are African American, according to the Louisiana Department of Health.
My mind also went to the summer of 2016 in Baton Rouge.
That summer was filled with tense protests, tear gas and stand-offs between police and citizens after the killing of Alton Sterling at the hands of two white Baton Rouge police officers.
Today, as I worry for my people’s safety, I remember what we were fighting for. I remember the generations of Black people who have worked so hard to fight against systemic racism. Why should coronavirus stop us from fighting for Black lives yet again?
On May 31 at 2 p.m. I joined in the protest march to the State Capitol in Baton Rouge. I not only joined the protest to advocate for people who look like me, but also, I’ll admit, to see if the Black community — my community — was alone in its fight for justice.
For once, I found we weren’t. There were posters raised by people of all different shades as the crowd shouted “No justice, no peace” and “We won’t be divided, we will stand united.” Once we got to State Capitol, the crowd gathered peacefully at the steps and listened to the organizers — a group of high schoolers including Mia Spears, Colleen Temple, Myra Richardson, and Noah Hawkings — explain that change can be made through accountability and unity. They called on our justice system to hold police officers accountable, including a second-degree murder charge for Derek Chauvin, the white police officer who knelt on Floyd’s neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds.
One of more powerful parts of the march for me was when the crowd raised their fists in solidarity with one another after a moment of silence. It made me feel like there was shared understanding, one that stretched across races.
Throughout the march, I took photos and videos of people marching toward the capitol. What I documented was a moment of unity in my hometown. I felt proud. The people of Baton Rouge, people of all races, showed we could fight for justice and be united in peaceful protest. It is a small step toward a better tomorrow, but we have to start somewhere.
