Only days before the 2020 USL Championship season was set to begin, the pandemic hit and everyone went into lockdown. Sports, entertainment, and sadly most jobs were immediately halted. Our way of life was changed in a matter of days, due to the power and danger of a microscopic virus that would kill thousands. Our sense of normalcy had disappeared.
Fast-forward a couple of months; on top of unemployment, uncertainty of our food security and healthcare, we were faced with yet another brutal killing of an innocent black man. Ahmaud Arbery was murdered in Georgia. The men claimed to be watching the neighborhood, allegedly witnessing Arbery attempting to rob a residential construction site. Arbery had been out on a two-mile jog, enjoying some exercise in the predominately white neighborhood, only to be gunned down and never to return home.
A week later, a group of white and heavily armed protesters stormed the Michigan state capital to demand the state reopen for business. The protesters effectively shut down the state congressional proceedings. State representatives hid in their offices, while others sat nervously on the senate floor. These protesters, mostly Caucasian men, were armed with automatic weapons dressed in camouflage as if ready for war. The police stood by, attempting to calm them down with communication. No arrests were made. No tear gas dispersed. No rubber bullets shot.
Before Americans could fully absorb the news, a new video emerged. Plastered on every major news outlet was George Floyd, a black man forced to the ground with his face pushed into the pavement and a white officer with his knee on his neck cutting off his airway for eight minutes and 46 seconds. The crime? Floyd had allegedly used a counterfeit $20 bill at a corner store. The fellow officers stood idly by, not doing a thing while the officer was killing him. Floyd crying out those now infamous words; “I can’t breathe,” pleading for his life. The defiant officer stared directly into the camera filming him; confident he would be protected like so many other officers before him.
We have seen police brutality for decades, for generations in fact. I was 12 years old when the Rodney King beating was witnessed by the world. When all the officers were found innocent, inciting the LA Riots. I had been present at the Michael Jackson trial and seen a district attorney, who was allegedly tied with the KKK, go after the King of Pop with hatred and vengeance for over 10 years before Jackson was acquitted of all charges in a court of law. I saw firsthand, the power the media had in shaping public opinion. I witnessed the responsibility journalists have to always seek the truth, to report what they witness in a fair and honest manner, but watching so many fail in this endeavor.
After the terrorist attacks on 9/11, we saw an immediate militarization of local police forces followed by an increase in police violence. Since then, police brutality has gotten out of control with so many killings of innocent black men and women, too many to name all of them here.
I had become an activist many years ago. My own family emigrated from Mexico in the 1950s. As a second generation Mexican American I am proud of my Mexican heritage and being bilingual. I was born and raised here in El Paso, one of the safest cities in the United States. I was proud to live in a community where I did not recognize race until my family moved to South Carolina.
I was in high school at the time, and upon entering the cafeteria that first day of school, I was faced with culture shock. The races were all segregated, not by law, but naturally because of the long history of segregation and racist culture. Blacks were on one side, whites on the other, and the rest of us – Asian, Latinos, Natives, etc. – were stuck in the middle. It was something that would impact me greatly.
While El Paso is over 80% Hispanic, we are also home to Ft. Bliss Army Base, the largest in the country. We are an international community that shares a border with our sister city, Ciudad Juarez. As a result, El Paso is a very welcoming, humble, and diverse community.
Despite the dangers of the pandemic, and perhaps because we had no other distractions, thousands of people took to the streets hours after the Floyd video aired. In all 50 states, and around the world, risking their lives to say enough is enough and demand change.
El Paso has seen its share of controversy. The Borderland became the epicenter for the family separation policy the current administration began shortly after entering office. The city was in the national spotlight with U.S. senators making their way to protest alongside community activists to demand the release of the many innocent children, being held like animals in cages in various detention centers in and around El Paso and along the Mexican border.
What the nation has witnessed and experienced these past few months is a new, powerful movement – one where you see just as many White and Latino people marching alongside their Black brothers and sisters. You see all ages with many protests being organized by teenagers. People are having those uncomfortable conversations that were so often avoided for many years. Thanks to quarantine, Americans have no other choice but to pay attention.
As a result of the ongoing protests, the sports world was also forced to respond. The National Football League apologized for “not listening” to their players when they took a knee in peaceful protest during the national anthem. NASCAR banned any and all display of the Confederate Flag at their events. From FIFA to the NBA, to the IOC, athletes are telling governing bodies, they are “tired of the lip service,” as Tianna Bartoletta, a three-time American track and field Olympic gold medalist put it in a recent interview with POLITICO.
There is a sense of urgency, a sense this movement is different. This sense is what got me past my fears of getting sick, this determination and being tired of the same killings happening over and over again, that took me to the protests near Downtown El Paso. 1,000 people showed up including Beto O’Rourke and other community leaders, facing El Paso Police, Customs and Border Protection (CBP) and FBI agents, and the National Guard. Shortly before the protest ended, the police shot tear gas and rubber bullets, due to alleged aggression from two protesters the police stated during a city council meeting the following week. Several protesters and officers were injured, while the tear gas lingered in the residential neighborhood for hours.
A few days later, community members held another protest downtown. A couple hundred were in attendance. Once again they were met with police in riot gear, a CBP helicopter hovering overhead, with a National Guard tank-like vehicle circling the protesters. The police would encircle them, just after the protest ended, pushing them in closer aggravating the crowd; one man was arrested. The charge? Obstructing a roadway.
Meanwhile, the pandemic rages and numbers continue to rise. We have 75 ICU beds in the city of El Paso and were close to 75% capacity. Last week we had 11 Covid-19 ICU admissions in one day. Like me, many Americans are tired of the disparity colored people in this country are facing in every way from education, healthcare, and economic. The power of a nation lies within its people, not those in power. Time has ended for us to remain silent. For us to ignore our privileges, however big or small they may be.
USL officially returns July 11, only a couple of weeks away. Players returned to practice several weeks ago. What type of normalcy we will see is yet to be determined. Each city and state will determine the restrictions held in place. Whatever happens, I am hopeful that these conversations will continue. Just a couple days ago police in Atlanta innocently gunned down another black man. When will it stop? Only when the people continue to rise up and demand – enough is enough. Election day is 142 days away.
