When Your Heart Stops
Beginning to Speak Up Against What’s Wrong
Before Memorial Day weekend of this year (2020), I was quiet. I didn’t protest, I didn’t say much about matters I cared about, I stayed out of everything that was debated. Why? Because I was convinced that no one would listen to the voice of a young woman who was barely an adult and had little more than a high school diploma and a certificate that said I was a certified nurse aid. I started sharing information about the pandemic, but that was the most I ever did.
That was before I saw images of George Floyd being killed.
I don’t remember when exactly I first saw them, but it was a few days after he was murdered. I knew that the Black Lives Matter movement would start up again, and I couldn’t blame them. They were right to be outraged. Even as a white woman, I know firsthand how corrupt the police force can be.
I remember shaking my head. It was shameful, but I would stay out of it. No one would listen to me, anyway.
On the day I found the images, I was scrolling through Facebook when I saw articles about what happened. They were few and far in between, so I shook my head in shame again and kept scrolling. There was nothing I could do, no one would listen to me.
That was when I saw the first picture. My hand stopped, and I felt my eyes grow wide in shock and fill with tears. My heart stopped, because I glanced at the man’s eyes, and that was what did it for me.
I saw his fear, yes, but I also saw the people I’ve been working with at the hospital for a year and a half now. In that moment when my heart stopped, the eyes of my work mom and one of the nurses I work with flashed in my mind. The eyes of my coworkers’ black and biracial children flashed through my mind. I let myself cry, but before I dare did another thing, I saw the eyes of the cop who killed George.
They were the eyes of a man who didn’t care. The eyes of someone who didn’t care about the life he was taking, just that he was being watched, and even then. Anger heated my blood to a boil, and my heart beat with a newfound passion.
Maybe they wouldn’t WANT to listen to me, but I was going to make my voice hard to miss, one way or another. I couldn’t go out and protest due to my family’s and my own risk of becoming seriously ill from the coronavirus, but the internet is a very open space full of people who know how to read.
So I started posting what I had to say. I started sharing articles. I didn’t have a Twitter account to start off with, but I had already wanted to make one, so I did. I started posting and sharing on there, too. I wasn’t going to stay quiet this time, even if it meant I was going to lose contact with family members who disagreed. The way I saw it, if anyone I talked to was racist (ESPECIALLY with my mom being of Hawaiian descent), then I had no room for them on my page where I keep in touch with my friends and family.
When I started speaking up, I received more support than I had expected. Friends from high school and my first couple of years in college were showing up to speak up, too. My coworkers, regardless of race, welcomed me back to work with as big of an air hug and thank you as they could give. My work momma, one of the most beautifully souled women I have ever known and an immigrant from Africa, talked to me when we were getting linen for a bed.
“We shouldn’t judge each other by our race,” she said. “I don’t care what color you are, you are like a daughter to me, and I thank you for speaking up.”
“Of course, momma,” I told her, with tears in my eyes. “I’ll keep speaking up for you as long as I have a voice. I don’t want to see you or anyone else here hurt because of what’s wrong in our country.”
Now think about yourself for a moment. Did your heart stop when you saw George Floyd’s terrified eyes? Did your blood boil with anger, too? Think about that carefully, and that this wasn’t the first or last time that a man was killed. Even if you want to say that it wasn’t racism, can you seriously deny that it was corruption after seeing George’s tears or hearing him plead for his mom? Even though all lives matter, can you really deny how little that seems to include our black brothers and sisters?
Now think to yourself...what are you going to do about it? Don’t stay quiet because you think your voice won’t matter, because if the words of a twenty-two year old who has no degree and no fame can affect the lives of the people around her, then so can you.
P.S. Thank you to CrankGamePlays for the idea for the picture. This was originally for a mosaic that someone in a fan group did, but the picture fits the article.
About the Creator
M. Fay Williams
I have been enthralled with writing since my later days in elementary school. Thankfully, my writing is aging like the wines I have tried and liked: slightly bitter at times, but still enjoyable and best enjoyed slowly. I hope you enjoy!
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