Eshiet takes a picture with his Covid-19 vaccination card during the peak of Covid, 2020. Photo by Isong Eshiet
Take me back to May 24, 2020, when my life would forever change.
We were having the best week celebrating my brother Omar and my aunt Tina’s birthday, staying up waywayy too late scrolling away, swapping stories with cousins we hadn’t seen in years.
There was m u s i c , laughter, plates of food everywhere. It felt like a break from all life’s
difficulties that Covid had thrown at us.
Then I opened my phone. A video of a man – George Floyd – pinned to the ground, crying out.
The air in the room shifted. No more music. No more laughter. Everything was still.
After the news nothing felt right. Why does this happen? How is this allowed to
happen? Who do you call when it’s the police you’re running from?
Immediately after the news my family grieved and continued to stay inside. In a year with so much
going on, there was another case of police brutality.
That’s when the riots started. My family was split. Some of us wanted to go out and join the
protest, fight for justice and what we know is right. But people protesting were putting themselves in danger. The police killed an innocent man…what’s stopping them from killing others who are
inciting a riot?
I say all that to say within life there’s joy, then grief. No warning. That’s what being Black in America can feel like.
But even in the heaviness, there’s strength, community, and the will to keep moving forward.
In high school, this can show up in a million different ways: being one of few minorities in a class (over-
achieving to be in an AP just to be the only person of color in the room), hearing “jokes” that aren’t
funny (“Where’d the Black kid go?”), or feeling like you have to work twice as hard to be seen the same.
It means carrying history with you while trying to plan your future. But it also means finding
pride in who you are, learning where you come from, and turning pain into purpose.
Be the minority in that classroom and continue to overachieve . Speak out about the “jokes” and
disrespect you’re receiving. Use your voice to help create a better environment not just for you, but for others too.
After attending Riverside for the last four years I learned school isn’t just about textbooks and tests—it’s where we start finding our voice. And for me, that voice is shaped by joy, grief, and everything in between.
