Why Michael Brown matters to me

My mom and I sat down together on the living room couch the night before I flew out for college. She told me all the things moms typically say to their children when they’re going off on their own. Near the end of her speech, something shifted in her face. She grabbed my hands in hers and held them tightly. She told me to be strong, not to lose hope and confidence and not to let anyone question my capabilities and intellectual capacity. She put down her head and began to pray and cry. My mother is a strong woman, and the only time that I’ve seen her cry is when she prayed. But this time, the words she was praying sounded different—heavier, more painful, more desperate. After she was done, she gave me a firm, long hug and whispered, “Don’t let them get you down, my son.”

This memory came up in my mind when I stood with hundreds of other Princeton students in front of Robertson Hall to give four and a half minutes of silence for Michael Brown following the march down Prospect Avenue and the announcement of the Ferguson grand jury’s decision not to indict Officer Darren Wilson. When the four and a half minutes were up, I looked up and saw some people around me crying. One person in particular —a black male student —was crying with exceptional passion.

When I saw this, I began to understand the pain and desperation behind my mother’s words as she prayed for my safety in college. My mother knew that I, as a person of color entering a prestigious and predominantly white institution, would be judged based on the color of my skin. As a person of color, I’ve faced microaggressions since coming to the University. However, when I saw that student crying in front of Robertson Hall, I knew that there were bigger problems here in the United States. When I go walk around in public spaces, I might get a few peculiar stares here and there for whatever reason. But, unlike him and other black men, I won’t be outwardly avoided by people, followed around by policemen or have to worry about being shot because of the way society perceives me.

At the protest, I noticed that there were collections of people from all ethnic groups. To me, this was significant because I’ve noticed that programs and campaigns run by the University or students, like “I, Too, Am Princeton,” which aim to combat minority issues, are almost completely composed of the groups at which they are targeted. However, we must take a more holistic approach by getting those students outside of these groups involved in order to efficiently combat these issues. Seeing people of all races at the Michael Brown protest shines a light on the fact that everyone, whether directly or indirectly, is affected by these things. As Princeton students, we should use our intellectual vitality to create a dialogue in which people from all ethnic backgrounds are heard. No longer can we ignore the police brutality against young black men in America and label it as a solely “black issue.” At the end of the day, it is as much of a white person’s problem as it is a black person’s problem. To further combat these issues, we must continue to keep the dialogue going and not let it fade into oblivion. Whether through more photo campaigns, events or discussions at home, it is important to let ourselves and the people around us be cognizant of these issues and to think about them critically.

Matthew Choi Taitano is a freshman fromYigo, Guam. He can be reached at mtaitano@princeton.edu.