HOW ARE WE NOT ALL OUTRAGED BY THIS INJUSTICE?

Is 2020 the year we all want to forget? Of course it is, when we think about the pain, division and disruptions within our lives. But there were some things I will not forget. In fact, I’d rather we don’t forget them — because they’ll make us better.

The first memory was unpleasant. Actually, it created rage and still triggers that emotion. It’s a dual memory, really. On a late morning in February, the name Ahmaud Arbery was introduced to my life. Like most people, I learned who he was through articles on my social and online media feeds. Arbery was an African American fatally shot while jogging in Georgia. I was as angered as I was stunned. Dumbfounded, I still remember the caption I wrote while sharing the story on Facebook: HOW ARE WE NOT OUTRAGED?

Couple that memory with the one in May when videos surfaced of George Floyd being killed in Minneapolis. We all saw and remember it. One of my initial thoughts, though, was that there would be immediate protests, then those gatherings would likely fade away.

I am so glad I was wrong.

Floyd was killed on Memorial Day and protests erupted for the next few days. Predictably, they rose during the weekend when many have fewer work or school responsibilities. But this is what I remember: The following Monday, there were more protests. And the next day. And the day after that. It was a groundswell led by — and reminding us that — Black Lives Matter. This was a series of marches that became a movement.

The deaths of Arbery and Floyd evoked centuries of oppression and injustice. This time there was more technological capacity to show it. There were more voices joining in the rage. Perhaps it’s a collective memory, fueled by months of marches and rallies, but I will never forget them. I hope our country does not either.

Amid those images, there were happier ones. It was also collective — and daily. Every night at 7 p.m., my East Village neighbors and I joined fellow residents of the Gaslamp Quarter and Little Italy in publicly thanking health care workers. We opened our windows, stood on balconies and rooftops, banged pots and clanged pans, and cheered for two solid minutes. It was a cathartic show of appreciation, affection and admiration for everyone working to save or improve lives during the pandemic.

These nightly celebrations waned by early fall, frankly. But there was one more mass outburst of emotion on Saturday, Nov. 7. The presidential election results had, after four days of waiting, come in. Of course not everyone will share my view that the results were positive. That’s why we hold elections. But no one can deny the spontaneous explosion of cheers in Downtown that day.

No one can deny the importance of any of these events or the reactions to them. In many ways, it’s a year we want to forget, but should always remember.