I sat for hours in front of my screen typing every word I could possibly find scrambled in my brain to describe the feelings of the moments I have experienced over the past couple of days.
At this moment in time, I don't think I can properly describe what has been felt, seen, and heard.
I want to revisit this in the near future. I know the pain of the people will never settle or be satisfied until change is not only made, but felt and seen as well.
On Tuesday afternoon, I was making my way to Inglewood, Calif. for a concert with my best friend. I felt slightly guilty for not spending the day with my older brother. It was his birthday. But I let him know I would make it up to him somehow, and that I sent him my love and hugs in the meantime.
I sat in my seat and scrolled through my twitter feed, when I came across my friend Tyresha’s tweet.
“Another black mans life, taken by the gun of another police officer… only this time in my hometown. #elcajon #blm”
My heart fell. I searched the tweets through the #ElCajon hashtag, hundreds of tweets already posted, mourning the loss of a man’s life and showing solidarity with the Black community. I sank into my seat at the concert theater.
Alfred Olango was a son. He was a father, uncle, friend. Alfred Olango was also unarmed when El Cajon Police Department (ELPD) officer Richard Gosalvez shot and killed him dead in a small shopping plaza. He is the 188th black man to be killed by police this year.
I am a proud Chicana who has voiced and stood in solidarity with the black community. My heart aches for this man, the family he left behind, and the wobbly justice system that allowed it to be ok for one officer to pull a taser on Alfred Olango while the latter arriving officer pulled a gun and decided to shoot him five times.
I took these photos at gatherings, protests, and marches in honor of Alfred Olango. They are some of the images of what pain within a community looks like. Every single individual gathered for a reason: Black Lives Matter. Alfred Olango's life mattered.
