On March 13, 2020, the door to the home that Breonna Taylor and boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, shared was broken down by officers of the Louisville Metro Police Department, leading to the death of unarmed Taylor. This event caused a chain reaction that sparked a social justice movement and protests around the country; the most notable being Black Lives Matter.
The event began with an investigation into drug dealings by Taylor’s former boyfriend which led the LMPD officers to raid Taylor’s home, in which they had a “no knock” warrant. The officers involved in the raid haven’t been convicted for the murder of Taylor, even after it was revealed that Myles Cosgrove shot the fatal bullet that killed Taylor. In June of 2020, one of the officers, Brett Hankison, was fired for shooting blindly into Taylor’s patio, and later that year, a grand jury convicted Hankison for three counts of wanton endangerment for shots he fired entering a neighboring White family’s home. However, no charges were filed for the bullets that entered into another neighboring home where a Black family resided.
It has now been one year since the horrific event, and justice has yet to be served. On the one-year anniversary of her death, people everywhere honored the late paramedic on social media, memorial services, protests, etc. In her hometown of Louisville, hundreds gathered at Jefferson Square Park, which has since been coined, “Breewayy”. Photos, signs, flowers, art, candles, and more lined the paved roads of the park’s centre stage.
By now, the whole world should know the name “Breonna Taylor,” but I can’t help but feel that they shouldn’t. I am continuously in disbelief and disappointment at the fact that people of color are murdered by those who are meant to protect every single day. Taylor should still be smiling, crying, saving lives; she should still be alive. At the very least, Taylor deserves justice, for her death shall not be in vain. Her blood rests on the hands of white men in poorly-decorated suits, so we will not rest until justice is served, until those poorly-decorated suits are orange jumpsuits.