Just over two years ago, myself and my friends Jordan Thomas and Mya Williams traveled to Louisville, Kentucky and were arrested for protesting the police murder of Breonna Taylor alongside Until Freedom and numerous other incredible activists.

Like so many others, I had – and still have – so many blind spots in my social consciousness. During 2020 when the world briefly stopped for the pandemic, life finally slowed down enough to more thoroughly examine the world around me outside of my narrow, liberal, white, privileged viewpoint. It was like waking up from a dull dream. I felt like I was able to see things as they truly were for the first time. The murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Andre Hill, Manuel Ellis, Rayshard Brooks, Daniel Prude, and so many more snapped us awake; even though we should have been paying attention the entire time. Death by police was not a series of isolated incidents; it was systemic. I regret and am ashamed that I was so out-of-touch with my fellow man that it required the dual pandemics of COVID and police murders to finally draw me from my slumber. But I am awake now and I refuse to go back to sleep.

Just like looking at a picture, once something is seen, it cannot simply be un-seen. I couldn’t go back to putting my head down, grinding through daily labor, and hoping to do enough to take care of myself and my own family. So I began to look to the leaders of local actions in Indianapolis. I marched. I protested. I witnessed the police brutality that followed anyone who spoke out against them; the gassings, the beatings, the arrests. Despite this, we knew we had to keep going.

On August 25th amid the humid air and burning sun we were arrested on Denny Crum Bridge in Louisville. Police met us in the streets with riot gear, armored vehicles, sound cannons, hardwood riot batons, tear gas, pepper spray, and seemingly unlimited zip-tie handcuffs.

They surrounded us and began to arrest us one by one, placing us in those zip ties and cramming us into vans. When we arrived at the local jail, we were all linked together in chain-gang fashion, separated by gender. Jordan and Mya were taken to one side of the building while I was led to another. While there, I listened to and learned from so many incredible activists who are still out there doing real, incredible work. We weren’t released until early the next morning, whereupon we were charged with various misdemeanor crimes (which were later dismissed and expunged thanks to our wonderful activist lawyers Tracy Davis and Lonita Baker). However, the police who had murdered Breonna Taylor had yet to spend any time in a jail cell.

As I became gradually more involved in protests leading up to this arrest, I noticed many individuals in the local Jiu-Jitsu community began to behave differently around me. After the arrest itself, I was all but a pariah among the gyms in Indianapolis. I was not outright removed from any gym – and don’t want to give the impression that I was – but I was obviously no longer welcome when I would show up. Some people rolled more aggressively with me than they had previously. Some people would make remarks in passing. But mostly, I was shunned and ignored.

It turns out that Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is full of law enforcement officers and they were not happy with me. Even though the officers involved in Breonna Taylor’s death are now being federally charged a full two years later, other LEOs stood behind them and supported them. I was considered at fault for questioning them, and many made (and continue to make) their feelings towards me known. My friend Jordan experienced nearly an identical set of issues upon trying to return to BJJ after our protest activities.

Instead of letting it force us into a box where we would be quiet and stop involving ourselves in activism and mutual aid, we continued. Admittedly, I heavily considered quitting Jiu-Jitsu altogether during this time. Doing what I could for social justice causes felt more important to me than going to a hobby where I felt unwanted and isolated. However, I was eventually approached by Jamie Bradley of KruFit. As a Muay Thai champion and coach, she had built a very unique, safe, and open culture in her gym. She felt I would be a good fit.

So I didn’t quit. Instead, I was provided the opportunity to create something new; a space in BJJ where we could be involved in social justice initiatives without fear of reprisal. We’ve developed a space in BJJ where we can stand up and be vocal about issues that matter and feel supported in it. We can collectively work to keep our communities safe and healthy through sharing our time, resources, and talents to causes that matter to us. I am grateful for what we have at Academic Grappling and KruFit. I am grateful I didn’t quit.