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"They shot my son seven times … seven times like he didn't matter, but my son matters," Jacob Blake Sr. said. "He's a human being and he matters."

These are the words of a grieving father whose son, Jacob Blake, may never get to teach his three-year-old son how to ride a bike. He won’t be able to chase after his three young sons down the street as they laugh joyfully. Blake did not only lose the use of his legs from unnecessary police brutality, his children lost their innocence as they watched their father get shot in the back by the police seven times.

Another man was shot in close range by the police without reason, and here we are again. The Black community is picking up the emotional pieces. The death of George Floyd was the bell that was heard around the country. Friends I haven't heard from in years flooded my phone with texts of condolences and check-ins asking how I was coping with the loss of a Black father. As months started to pass and the fad of social justice began to wear off, I received fewer and fewer condolences and fewer check-ins. Black men and women were still dying in the streets and children were still losing their parents too soon. But now, it was no longer popular to protest. In many cities, the crowds outside got smaller, the Black Lives Matter banners began to peel off the local businesses walls and fewer people were checking in on their Black friends.

I have to wake up every morning knowing I am Black. That does not change. And the fear and unknown of that never leaves me. I cannot change the color of my skin and decide one day not to be Black. I am Black 365 days and 24 hours of the day. I cannot change that pit that lies in my stomach when I pass by a cop on the street. As more stories come to light of African Americans being mistreated and overlooked, all I can think about is how some of my white counterparts have become desensitized and turned a blind eye to the trauma and mistreatment of the African American community at this time.

Just because the popularity of the movement has died down, it doesn’t mean my pain and suffering is not still there. Systemic change has not been made, and it shows in the continuation of tragic episodes that happen to young Black men and women, boys and girls, like Jacob Blake, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Tamir Rice and countless others.

I wish this movement wasn’t a fad or a trend that looks good and adds clout to people's social media pages. They were down for the moment and not for the movement. Because for me, there is no deciding whether or not I feel like being Black today, and that makes my experiences different from those who are not.

When I think about the Black lives matter movement and those who participated and protested in the beginning — now slowly trickling off — I think of a quote from James Baldwin: “I can’t believe what you say, because I see what you do.”

Like Baldwin, I do not believe those who posted a black square on their social media pages and spoke of the movement months ago were really for the movement, because I feel their lack of presence now more than ever. I say all of this now because the movement is not over. We have not even reached the precipice of what we can accomplish and achieve if we continue to fight for what is right.