After one of the many publicized BLM incidents (before George Floyd), I read a Facebook post written by an African American college professor in Boston describing how gut-wrenchingly terrified he was when he was for no reason suddenly surrounded by police cars as he was walking into a taco place for lunch. It was brilliantly written, highly emotional, and his primal fear, “OMG this is happening to me, this is where I’m going to die” hit me in one of those lightbulb wake up kind of ways. I was streaming tears realizing had I witnessed this I would’ve just kept walking. I would’ve immediately jumped to the conclusion that the cops had surrounded a “criminal” and thank God they keep us safe. I was appalled at myself. I just didn’t get it before that article. If it happens in my presence now, I would stop. I would question it. I would take video on my phone and ensure this man is not alone in this. His Black life matters to me. Black Lives Matter. I am witnessing, I am recording, I am watching, I am speaking directly to him and to the cops surrounding him. I get it now, and I will not ever again walk past. I’m so sorry I ever once did. It stops now.