From Eric Garner to George Floyd to Tyre Nichols, Black people in this country have had our breath, our bodies, and our futures stolen by American law enforcement. Repeatedly. On camera. In broad daylight. With impunity.
Five years ago, the world watched George Floyd publicly lynched by a Minneapolis police officer who knelt on his neck for 9 minutes and 29 seconds. The dam broke. Millions took to the streets in the largest racial justice uprising in global history, demanding justice, transformation, and a world where Black people can breathe.
We are still suffocating. The calls for a racial reckoning in America have been drowned out by a tidal wave of white backlash, political cowardice, and state-sponsored repression. Leading the charge is Donald Trump.
Policing in America was never meant to keep Black and other people of color safe. It was designed to control, contain, and criminalize Black and Brown bodies in protection of property and in defense of white supremacy.
Just days before the Angelversary of George Floyd’s murder, the U.S. Department of Justice quietly terminated consent decrees in Minneapolis and Louisville—the cities where George Floyd and Breonna Taylor were murdered. These minimalist reforms were already insufficient. But even those symbolic concessions are now being rolled back. The message from the State is clear: they stalk us, kill us, rape us, maim us and do it all without consequence.
Meanwhile, Trump is flagrantly moving a law-and-order agenda tinged with hints of facism and violence. He’s publicly floated the idea of pardoning Derek Chauvin, the man convicted of murdering George Floyd—potentially even on the anniversary of George’s death. He’s promised to grant immunity to cops who kill. And he’s made clear that in Trump’s America, police will have full license to terrorize Black and Brown communities without consequence.
During Trump’s first term, federal investigations into police departments were gutted. Civil rights probes were buried. Consent decrees were rolled back. He tear-gassed peaceful protesters in front of the White House for a Bible photo-op. He encouraged cops to rough people up on national television. He called protesters “thugs” and deployed federal agents to cities demanding justice.
And he’s not alone. This is a bipartisan crisis.
Democrats have also failed us. Despite all the talk of police reform, law enforcement in the United States still kills more than 1,300 people a year—roughly three people every single day—regardless of who sits in the White House or controls Congress. When the movement to defund police gained national traction in 2020, many Democrats tripped over our dead Black bodies running away from their promises of solidarity and bended knee photo-ops. They backpedaled policy proposals, caved to police unions, and embraced “re-fund the police” narratives that fueled the further criminalization of Black people and placed targets on the backs of Black activists.
The violence hasn’t stopped; two weeks ago, three officers involved in the brutal beating of Tyre Nichols were acquitted on all state charges. In a police body cam video that was released like an album drop, the nation watched Tyre cry out for his mother as he was beaten to death by Memphis police. Still, — no justice. No accountability.
The “reforms” we were offered—body cams, cultural competency trainings, civilian oversight boards—have done little more than manage our grief while protecting the system that keeps killing us. These were never meant to stop the violence. They were designed to preserve it under a friendlier face.
Here is the truth: Policing in America was never meant to keep Black and other people of color safe. It was designed to control, contain, and criminalize Black and Brown bodies in protection of property and in defense of white supremacy.
Every time we’ve demanded transformation—from Reconstruction to the civil rights movement to Black Lives Matter—the system has retaliated.
What do we do in the face of all this?
We organize. We build. We resist.
Donald Trump’s threats should terrify us. But more than that, they should galvanize us.
We must continue constructing abolitionist infrastructure: community-based responses to community crisis, healing justice networks, mutual aid systems, and political education rooted in collective liberation. We must show—through action, not rhetoric—that we can build real safety without the violence of the state.
Donald Trump’s threats should terrify us. But more than that, they should galvanize us. The rollback of consent decrees should enrage us—but more importantly, they should remind us that our freedom will never come from the systems built to destroy us.
The political terrain has shifted. The stakes are higher. The time to recommit is now.
The movement for Black lives is not a moment—it is a mission. Five years after the murder of George Floyd, in the face of rising fascism, we must move with clarity, strategy, organizing acumen and unapologetic courage.
Cat Brooks is Co-Founder of the Anti Police-Terror Project.
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