How Can I Sleep?

Michelle Wu

It’s 2:46 am, May 29, 2020. I can’t sleep.

This isn’t new to me, at least not for the past week. I tossed and turned for hours the nights after news of George Floyd’s murder broke, but tonight, I’m wide awake, light on, Twitter open. They say not to go to bed angry, so here I am.

I think the officers who murdered George Floyd should burn in hell. From the depths of my heart, I want them to die the way he died, their pleas ignored as a sharp knee cuts off their breathing. I have these thoughts. They are angry, violent, incendiary. Perhaps in a moment of reflection sometime in the future, I’ll collect myself, consider if my rage is impulsive or my reaction inhumane. Perhaps then I’ll see that there lies the necessity of our justice system: good thing judges and juries sentence criminals rather than the court of public opinion. But for now, for the past two days, I’ve been simply furious.

Yet, I’ve never had the urge to burn or loot. Is it because I’ve never been targeted by the police for the color of my skin? Is it because I’m not black, so I couldn’t understand? Maybe. At least Twitter thinks so. But I’d like to think it’s because it’s wrong. Taking things that aren’t yours, burning property that doesn’t belong to you, potentially endangering a whole community of innocent people: that’s wrong. It shocked me to discover there were people who disagreed. I can’t believe people still called it “protest”. Frankly, I’m offended for the word itself.

Protest is a right. It’s our duty as Americans, and it’s an honor that millions around the world long for. It’s how women got the right to vote, how the Civil Rights Act got passed, how the LGBT community could legally marry. Protest, significant protest, is peaceful. What’s happening in Minneapolis is not protest. It’s rioting.

My mom yelled for me to check our locks as she watched a live stream on Youtube. My dad said he might not go to work tomorrow, despite being states away from the chaos in Minnesota. My parents, Chinese immigrants and admittedly a little entrenched in cultural ignorance, watched uneasily as a group of young black men passed our house on a walk. I opened my mouth to say something, to pull them away from the window, but I couldn’t find my voice. After they had just watched a police station go up in flames, could I really admonish them for being afraid?

Violence does nothing for race relations in our country. If anything, it makes them far worse, perpetuating stereotypes and marking enemies when what we need is unity. White people, Asian people, people everywhere already find it difficult to face uncomfortable truths, and demonizing ourselves through this behavior does nothing but give them excuses to keep their eyes and minds closed.

We need drastic, systemic change. Lucky for us, every two years or so, we get to overthrow the government - peacefully. March. Vote. Call your senator. Write to your district attorney. Have an honest conversation. Join a campaign. Run for office. Don’t let up the pressure. Don’t let up at all. We’ve come too far to return to violence. Let’s finish the race together.

- MW