Twenty-Six
New Yorkers reflect on Breonna Taylor's death during a moment of silence for the slain woman.
On June 5, 2020 I attended two vigils for Breonna Taylor. These gatherings were just two of many that occurred across the country in honor of what should have been Breonna's twenty-seventh birthday. Although she was unknown outside of her community prior to her death, the outpouring of support for her and her family amidst the protests brought to the forefront of my mind America's fascination with celebrity and tragedy.
Humans have a special memorial to musicians and actors who die at the age of twenty-seven. The 27 Club, which includes the likes of Amy Winehouse, Janis Joplin, and Jimi Hendrix, cements artistically-talented people as victims of fear, misdirection, and bad choices. While Breonna Taylor never achieved this level of superstardom during her lifetime, her death transformed her into a symbol of police brutality, systemic racism, socioeconomic disparity, and civic apathy.
The question of nature vs. nurture, of a person being the victim of circumstance or their own bad choices, takes on a new light when reflecting on yet another murder of an unarmed black person at the hands of police officers. The guilt, sadness, confusion, frustration, and anger was potent in the audiences at both events. Against the backdrop of a global pandemic, whose response has been despicably mishandled here at home, hundreds of twenty- and thirty-somethings seemed to ponder whether political and humanitarian change was indeed possible at all.
Humans have a special memorial to musicians and actors who die at the age of twenty-seven. The 27 Club, which includes the likes of Amy Winehouse, Janis Joplin, and Jimi Hendrix, cements artistically-talented people as victims of fear, misdirection, and bad choices. While Breonna Taylor never achieved this level of superstardom during her lifetime, her death transformed her into a symbol of police brutality, systemic racism, socioeconomic disparity, and civic apathy.
The question of nature vs. nurture, of a person being the victim of circumstance or their own bad choices, takes on a new light when reflecting on yet another murder of an unarmed black person at the hands of police officers. The guilt, sadness, confusion, frustration, and anger was potent in the audiences at both events. Against the backdrop of a global pandemic, whose response has been despicably mishandled here at home, hundreds of twenty- and thirty-somethings seemed to ponder whether political and humanitarian change was indeed possible at all.
Tenelle Veira, an Emmy-nominated makeup artist and black woman, transforms a vigil into a birthday celebration for Breonna Taylor. Ahead of the event she encouraged participants to bring balloons and signs wishing Breonna a happy birthday.
A white man in a white t-shirt stands in front of sign that reads "END WHITE SILENCE".
A white woman covers her face with a sign that reads "BLACK LIVES MATTER".
Tenelle Veira looks out over the crowd at Domino Park, Williamsburg. Out across the East River Lower Manhattan rises through the fog.
A lone birthday balloon becomes a traveling memorial to Breonna Taylor.
Social Distancing necessities butt up against protests and a deep human need to gather after two months inside.
Catherine Antoine, a friend in attendance, approaches the vigil at McCarren Park in Williamsburg.
Silence for Breonna.
Young people listen intently as two speakers celebrate Breonna Taylor's life.
The second vigil morphed into a peaceful protest through the streets of Williamsburg.
Catherine Antoine poses with her homemade protest sign and a balloon.
The journey ends....??