Lying on the cold ground outside of Penn Station on Thursday night, surrounded by activists chanting “We Can’t Breathe” as I chanted those very same words myself, I felt my body. I couldn’t say how many times it has happened other than to say that it rarely does, and if you asked me to describe the feeling now, I couldn’t for the life of me. I call it a feeling and not an experience because that’s what it is: a feeling. Everything else seems like an experience in comparison. The magic in feeling my body is that I am not in control of it. It just happens to me. It feels as though there’s a shift in my being in which I go from experiencing my body through my consciousness to actually feeling my body, being my body.
The worst part about this experience is why I think that I was feeling my body. As I lay sprawled on the asphalt surrounded by other bodies, I realized in that moment more than ever before that I could be next. I felt my body, but in feeling my body I recognized the multitude of ways in which it could be destroyed by those meant to protect and serve.
Fear. Fear had been driving me all along. It was fear that had caused me to feel my body, the very same fear that had almost stopped me from attending the protest in the first place. I look into this photo of myself, taken before I felt my body on the ground, and where I thought I saw anger and hatred before, I now see nothing more than fear in my eyes. After the protest, it felt as though this fear was gone. I talked to a white friend about our feelings of fear and hesitation to attend the protest because of them, and I told her that I felt as though I was slowly becoming desensitized to death because of the events happening all around us, and that my death was no exception in this. Whereas during the protest I was careful to avoid police, as we left I walked through their ranks without hesitation. Feeling my body did something to me. I don’t know exactly what it did, and I’m not sure that I ever will, but there was a shift, if only momentarily, that occurred within me on that night.
Unruly Bodies 
It seems that you had sort of an “aha’ moment. I am also glad that you mentioned fear. Fear is a huge thing that drives us and is not such a bad thing. Fear seems to be what drove you to protest for something that you care deeply about. Fear is also what drove you to stay out of the police way,which is another good thing.
This post gave me chills and I am so grateful to be able to read about your feelings. I’m also glad to see you acknowledged your fear, which in itself is a very scary thing to do. But even just in acknowledging your fear, going ahead anyways in something so important, and embracing your feelings is incredibly brave. Thank you so much for sharing.
that feeling, when you are in the midst of a movement…your body is so warm…your heart is creating a new tune. For that moment, you remember everything that youve experienced, and even things that you didnt personally experience. And your body feels the tension. Its the most powerful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.