Dear 2020,

Dear 2020, 

You have made my school year one for the books: my last year of high school basketball, journalism, and classes as a whole. Who knew that you’d be the year, that would push me to my emotional limit. It stemmed from the injury; what seemed like the amazing start to the end of my High School basketball career was terminated by an Achilles injury. It wasn’t the injury itself that bothered me, it was the constant pestering of “When will he be healthy, Can you just play injured, or What happened to you”. These little remarks really questioned myself and my mental strength. Thanks to God I made a comeback and was able to get back in my groove until my last game came. The night of my last game, I just remember being in the car ride home just tearing up over how fast 4 years of basketball went by. Those 4 years of wearing my town across my chest, are times I’ll hold dear to my heart. 

The pandemic arrived, killing thousands in New Jersey and around the town. Going as far as to tarnish the possibilities of me returning to school. Just when I thought life couldn’t become any more dismal,  the murders of George Floyd, Breona Taylor, and Ahmud Arbery initiated warfare between racists and proper-minded individuals. The murders forced me to step back and self analyze. It was as if someone dropped me in a bucket of ice-cold water because it just shocked me. Though I was always cognizant of my place in America, the cold-blooded murders of my black brothers and sisters solidified what I call the “Amerikkkan Agenda”. Amerikkka wants me dead, and nothing more. Once I wrapped my mind around this scary reality, I became increasingly crestfallen with the US. I knew that one way I could bring about change was to put together a short film, and show how I felt. My hope is that my work and when I begin to volunteer with the ACLU, that change will be brought to fruition. 

Retrospectively speaking, it was all worth it. The murders of black youth during my senior year, forced more people to acknowledge the systemic racism and racial-driven policing in the US. In addition, it raised awareness for the significance of voting. On a side note, the friendships I made, the ones broken, the pain, the peaks, the valleys, I wouldn’t take any of it back. My father had always said, “you never know the value of something until you’ve lost it”. Now that my high school career is over, I say cheers to what the next chapter of my life holds.  For the pioneer, I will miss you and the opening arms you welcomed me with, and the same arms you let go of to let me spread my wings. It takes a family to allow a student to express himself, like how I am in this article. I am thankful for my time at the Pioneer. But until next time…