I am Walter Scott. I was murdered on April 4th, 2015. I was pulled over because my brake light wasn't working but I was actually heading to an auto shop to fix it. It was an old car. When I got out of the car, I talked to the officer and then I ran. He caught up to me and we had a small fight. I turned to run again then he shot me eight times. They killed me because I ran and then said that I tried to kill him. I was trying to learn massage therapy. I was 50 years old.
I am Eric Garner. I was murdered on July 17th, 2014. I was selling single cigarettes on the side of the street when cops came to harass me. I told them that I was tired of them bothering me. They started to arrest me but I wasn't having it anymore. I swatted away their hands and they put their arms around my neck. As I repeated I couldn't breathe, they continued to put pressure on me and I died. They stared at my body blankly after they killed me and treated me as if I wasn’t there. They killed me because I resisted. I was a father and grandfather. I was 43 years old.
I am Tererance Crutcher. I was murdered on September 16th, 2016. I was trying to get help because my car was stalled in the middle of the road. They were on their way to a completely unrelated disturbance but they treated me like I was the criminal. They said I looked like “a very big and bad dude”. I had my hands up the whole time when they had me surrounded but they still killed me with one fatal shot. They killed me because they thought I was threat. They said I was reaching for a weapon in my car but the window wasn’t even open. I wanted to be a gospel singer. I was 40 years old.
I am Sandra Bland. I was murdered on August 8th, 2015. I was on my way home from a job interview when a cop pulled me over for not signaling when I changed lanes. I exercised my government given rights but I was thrown to ground and arrested. Although my family and friends will all tell you I was perfectly happy, I was found dead in my cell two days later. They said that I hung myself but the picture that they said was my mugshot was actually me dead. They killed me because they knew I shouldn't have been in jail in the first place and I would’ve proven that. My mom still cries for me every night. I was 28 years old.
I am Freddie Gray. I was murdered on April 12th, 2015. I was standing on the street when the police apprehended me for having an illegal switchblade. My ride to the police station took hours when the station was only minutes away. During this ride, I went through a hell that few have known and they abused me until I couldn’t talk anymore. They killed me because they felt like it and they knew they could get away with it. I had dreams of becoming something big. I was 25 years old.
I am Tamir Rice. I was murdered on November 22nd, 2014. I was playing in the park with a BB gun my friend gave me earlier. I didn’t mean any harm. I was just waving it around like they do in the movies. I wanted to be big and strong and pretend with my new toy. Somebody got scared and called the cops. I had my toy on the table and I put it in my waistband when they were arriving. They told me to put my hands up but I just wanted to show them that it was just a toy but they shot me twice. I didn’t even get to say anything. They killed me because I am a black male and we are always dangerous. I loved videogames and I was in the seventh grade. I was 12 years old.
I am Samantha Cuffy. My people are dying. I have 3.5 times more of a chance of getting killed than my white friend. Black people are the face of popular culture. Hip hop is one of the fastest growing music genres. Our sayings and dances are quickly integrated into pop culture and everybody is ready to hit the whip and nae nae but nobody is ready to do die ins and protests when we are murdered innocently in the streets. People want to wear our hairstyles and call it their own but call us ghetto thugs for wearing the same thing.They wear my skin as a dress but for me it is a tattoo. Even though I am unarmed, my death will still be justified. They can kill me because they’ll get away with it. My brother loves playing with toys will he get shot too? My mom is trying to get her education, will she get shot too? My auntie is trying to find a job, will she get shot too? I have dreams, will I get shot too? The history of our people is written in our own blood and we’re running out of survivors. I am Samantha Cuffy and I am dead.
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