So many words spoken since four police officers in Minnesota ignored George Floyd’s pleas that he couldn’t breathe. So much anger spewed from the passionate marchers crowding together in the streets of 169 American cities at last count. With more chanting “Black Lives Matter!” in Paris, Copenhagen, Rio de Janeiro, Athens, Dublin and more. A collective cri de coeur for justice. These last few days I’ve mourned and wrestled with my rage about this latest example of the systemic terror by police on black communities. And I’ve pondered a history of police involved incidents of mostly Black men which led to burning and violence.

New York, July, 1964 — an off-duty police officer shot and killed a fifteen-year-old African American boy.

Watts, Los Angeles, August, 1965 — white policemen used force to restrain a young black man arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol.

Newark, New Jersey, July, 1967 — police arrested and beat a black cabdriver.

Also, in July 1967 — Detroit — police raided an after-hours bar in a poor neighborhood and arrested eighty people. That unrest happened under the watch of Michigan Governor George Romney, Senator Mitt Romney’s dad.

May 1992 — Los Angeles burns again following the acquittal of four police officers whose beating of Black driver Rodney King was caught on videotape.

Two years later — Boston, March, 1994 — 75-year-old Reverend Acceleyne Williams died after police did a no-knock raid at his house. The same no-knock tactic police used in gunning down Kentucky EMT Breonna Tayler in her house three weeks ago on March 13.

And May 25, 2020, Minneapolis — history repeats after four police officers, one with his hand in his pocket and his knee on George Floyd’s neck, drained the life out of him in broad daylight before witnesses and cameras.

Many of the sign holders in the organized protests of the last week or so weren’t alive when some of these incidents occurred. For them, George Floyd’s death is horrific without the historical context. But I would argue their activism is founded on a kind of psychic muscle memory of those who came before.

I don’t want to see that video anymore of Floyd handcuffed and begging for his life. But how to erase the image of his murder? And how to stop recalling the faces of so many others — all names permanently etched on a bloody roll call. Who knows what would have happened had there been no video. After all, even with the videos capturing the scene from many angles, Derek Chauvin was not immediately arrested or charged. It was only last week that his original third degree murder charge was upped to second degree murder and that the other three officers involved were arrested and charged.

I’m torn — I see the thousands who’ve joined the protests and I am encouraged by vast numbers of young Black people and the large numbers of white people taking the lead. I thought most of them only understood hashtag activism. I want to embrace their energy and defiance. I want to believe that their demand that enough is enough means systemic change is possible soon. But I know that fighting bias, in the ranks of American police departments and white supremacy itself, is an uphill climb. And frankly, I don’t know that they are fit for the “ain’t- gonna -let -nobody turn- me round” ongoing mission focus that will be necessary.

But again, I’m torn. They braved a pandemic to make sure everybody heard their voices. Still, I’ve seen too much to be optimistic. But I am hopeful that this is indeed the tipping point they hope for, and not just another tepid tiptoe toward change.