I was in the 4th grade when the death of Freddie Gray occurred on April 19, 2015. I didn’t know what was happening, I just wanted to be a kid. It didn’t hit me until I saw it.

When you type in Freddie Gray’s name, the first thing that shows at the top of the Google search engine is “Freddie Gray riots”, not protests, but riots. Interestingly enough, events that happened prior to the riots were peaceful protests in front of the Western District police station in Baltimore, Maryland. The people demanded that they know how Gray was in a coma after being arrested. After Freddie Gray’s death, the outcome of police brutality, the riots began.

I know people jokingly compare Baltimore to Gotham City, but it actually did look like another night in the City. Seeing the news was terrifying. I thought the world was ending, especially when they declared a state of emergency. I don’t even remember going to school, very briefly, during that time. I will never forget wanting to go to my local park with my mom and my father yelling at me, saying it isn’t safe, and calling my mom stupid. The riots were nowhere near us but the city was in shambles, so he was afraid. 

Burning buildings. Seeing men run out of the torn CVS with baby diapers. Sad faces. Enlightened faces. People on top of police cars. Crowds pressing up against the National Guard. Yes, there are some people who took advantage and didn’t actually care about his death, and the unfortunate looting of small businesses. Seeing this was so fascinating– Sacrificing your body to rebel. I’m all for that.