By Kaylah Williams
I was born and raised in Shreveport, Louisiana where the Black population is over 50 percent, but all the schools and neighborhoods are still segregated. I went to predominantly white public schools, and from a young age I learned to carry my blackness with pride even if I was the only Black girl in the room. The racism I faced growing up ranged from small microaggressions, “You talk so well for a Black girl” to more outright racism, “I just don’t feel comfortable having you handle those files, so I gave them to Rebecca.” After I graduated university, all I wanted was to leave the South and move to California.
Black Lives Matter protest in front of Mission High School in San Francisco on June 3, 2020. Photo by Tumay Aslay.
It seems so foolish to even say out loud, but I really thought that moving away would mean I wouldn’t have to face overt racism again. But racism doesn’t just go away when you move. The systemic problems facing this nation are so insidious. The systemic inequities of San Francisco are just the same as Shreveport. Fewer Black communities just makes it easier for Black voices to be completely left out. I found my calling in fighting for the unheard Black voices of San Francisco through my political work. And it continues to give me strength even when I feel lost or alone in this city.
‘Enough!’ hand-painted sign at protest in Mission District on June 3, 2020. Photo by Tumay Aslay.
It took a long time for me to find the strength to watch the whole video of George Floyd’s killing. After I watched it, I laid in bed paralyzed with fear, anger and a profound sadness. I stayed in bed. I cried for George Floyd and the future that was robbed from him. I cried for my father who had a gun pulled on him only because he shared the same first name and skin color of someone else’s warrant. I cried for my brothers who were treated poorly by white elementary school teachers because little black boys are “aggressive” while white boys are just “rambunctious.” I cried for myself who had the police called on me on Election Day 2016 for being a suspicious person in the neighborhood when my only crime was campaigning while Black.
It finally feels like America is seeing the world the way that I’ve always seen it — America the free, for some. It’s like a light switch has been turned on. For the first time in most of our lives there is national attention on racial inequality and police brutality. Protests have happened in all 50 states and around the world. George Floyd’s daughter said, “Daddy changed the world” and she’s right. His killing feels like the catalyst to finally say, enough is enough. Now is the time to take to the streets. So I did.
In the blazing sun I marched alongside thousands of San Franciscans. I felt the power of my own voice rising from deep inside. I shouted “No Justice? No Peace!” echoed by voices behind me. Soon I was surrounded by chants in unison. I shouted so loud I felt tears swelling in my eyes. My mind could only hold focus on the families of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd. I zoom forward in my own history and think of my future children. When will the senseless killing of my people and my community end? By then I had tears running down my cheeks as I shouted again, “No Justice? No Peace!” After a few more rounds of chants I needed to rest my voice. In that brief moment of pause I was faced with a beautiful act of solidarity. Someone a couple of feet back picked up the chant, “No Justice? No Peace!” The chant grew louder and louder as far back into the crowd as I could see. This is the change America needed. This is just the beginning of a fight we will all join in. Change is coming.
It’s hard to be a Black woman in America. Our voices are tired of screaming for justice alone, but now finally it feels like we’re not fighting alone. There is a movement growing bigger and bigger every day. One protest does not change the world, but every protest, every rally, every conversation moves us closer. As Assata Shakur said, “Dreams and reality are opposites. Action synthesizes them.”
Young Black Lives Matter protesters in Mission District of San Francisco on June 3, 2020. Photo by Tumay Aslay.
Kaylah Williams is a social justice activist and political campaign manager in San Francisco, California. Williams founded the San Francisco chapter of AfroSocialists and Socialists of Color Caucus. She is also on the executive board of the Harvey Milk LGBTQ Democratic Club.