After 100 days, Louisville protesters continue to honor, seek justice for Breonna Taylor
One hundred days. That is how long we have seen the sustained protests at what we now call Injustice Square Park in downtown Louisville.
It is where we stand united, refusing to bend to fear. It is where we say the name of Breonna Taylor, who was murdered by the Louisville Metro Police Department in March, and David McAtee, who was murdered by the National Guard in June.
On any given day, this location is the central point for marches led by LGBTQIA+ folks, children, people of faith, or any other number of groups. And in the middle of it all is the memorial to Breonna Taylor. People from across Kentucky, the United States, and from around the world have spent time at Injustice Square and left tributes in her memory. It gives comfort to her mom, Tamika, who gets to see and experience all of this even as she mourns for her daughter and continues working for justice.
This is a gathering space for folks who are new to organizing, and folks who’ve been leading for a long time. It’s a central space for workshops on advocacy and public policy, self-care, and mobilizing for action. You will see people serving hot meals at no cost to folks who are hungry; mental health professionals providing care to those in need; and organizations like the Kentucky Alliance Against Racist and Political Repression offering free hand sanitizer and masks.
Last month, when I was there to prepare for the press conference announcing my proposed “Breonna’s Law,” I got to Injustice Park early enough, for the first time ever, to lay out the different pieces of art and tributes that are part of Breonna’s memorial. See, what happens every night is that the pieces are collected and stored under the protective tarp, and each day the tarp is removed from the memorial and all of the pieces are placed back around the site.
That morning, a few of us took on this task. For me, it was spiritual. I felt a responsibility to read each word on every item in my hands, to honor the artwork, and to handle each piece with care. It was an act of love for Breonna and her family. It was an acknowledgment and understanding for me that her spirit was in this space.
I thought about all of that a short time later as we announced Breonna’s Law for Kentucky, which would ban dangerous no-knock search warrants and require police officers to use body cameras as well as submit to alcohol and drug testing within two hours of a shooting or other deadly incident.
For 100 days now, we have put the fight for racial justice on full display while making ourselves vulnerable to people who will hate us simply for existing, let alone for demanding accountability from law enforcement and elected officials.
I am now one of those elected officials, but my life experience is very different from many others in office. I grew up in the projects of Beecher Terrace in West Louisville. I know what abandonment from government looks like and feels like.
When people like my mother were struggling with addiction, Black people were not given the benefit of the doubt, or encouraged to seek mental health support, or directed toward treatment options. We have suffered through the inequities of this city, state and country, and we have also stood against those injustices. Along the way, there have always been people who directed hate towards Black people, including the ones who are readily quoted today out of convenience.
It took a lot to get me from the projects into a position to impact public policy. People like me rarely get these opportunities. So, I’m using my position of privilege and my voice to fight for racial justice and to demand accountability from the people who are supposed to protect and serve us.
It’s a blessing to do this alongside my neighbors in Louisville, and alongside my neighbors across Kentucky who have joined us in solidarity. We have marched together in Ashland, Brandenburg, and Berea, saying Breonna Taylor’s name. Her life and legacy are being lifted up across our Commonwealth.
Earlier this summer, during one of the local marches, my teenage daughter, Ashanti, and I were among those needlessly tear-gassed by the Louisville Metro Police Department. She later said to me, “We do not move in fear.”
I think about those words quite often, and their meaning grows stronger each day.
We don’t move in fear. Fear doesn’t deserve us, but justice certainly deserves more good people. So join us in seeking justice for Breonna Taylor. Let us pledge not to have 100 more days go by before justice is served.
State Representative Attica Scott serves Kentucky House District 41. You can follow her on Instagram and Twitter at @atticascott4ky.