JAN 1, 2010--Yesterday I arrived at the Fruitvale Bart Station to cloudy skies. It’s hard to believe that just one year ago, this was the site of such gross injustice; a young man out to enjoy New Years, only to take his final breath on a BART platform at the hands of police officer Johannes Mehserle.

I turned the corner, and joined a group of people facing a black stage, in preparation for the events. I immediately noticed the diversity of faces- an elderly woman, young children, teenagers, mothers, fathers, Nation of Islam members, and clergy all gathered on this day to remember Oscar Grant, and protest the circumstances of his death.

Though the vigil and rally were beset by a general mood of hope, and the idea that Grant became a martyr for this community, there still existed a lingering rage.

A spoken word performance, sermons, speeches, and the pain in the face of a mother who’d lost her twin sons to violence, all spoke to this particular rage. This was not an unwarranted rage, but a rage at the idea that one’s life could be taken prematurely, without cause, and in the realm of police brutality; that the act of walking outside of one’s home to enjoy the New Year could result in the loss of that life. The story of Oscar Grant could’ve easily been my story, the story of my cousin, sister, or brother. It could easily be the story of many of the people at the events today.

And in this way, Oscar Grant has become our son, brother, cousin, and friend- and we’ll continue to galvanize the community well into the trial of Mehserle.



My aim today was to capture that communal spirit in the photographs that I shot. Each face has its own narrative, and together, they ensure that the story of Oscar Grant and the fight for justice in its midst, will never be forgotten.

This entry is part of our Oscar Grant Memorial Tribute. See the full series here.