Nine minutes and twenty nine seconds. That’s how long a police officer named Derek Chauvin kneeled on a man’s neck until the man, George Floyd, died. This ignited protests across the USA last year, during a historic pandemic, with the possibility of real reform to our criminal justice system. Today the jury started deliberating. The fact that this could actually go either way is shocking, and we hold our breath to see what’s next for our country.
Traveling at the Speed of Bike in the City of Atlanta gives me the chance to see people, art, history, exclusion/inclusion, and changes small and large at a pace that reminds me how far we have yet to go. And yes, there are even unexpected joys — and joy can be an act of resistance. A necessary respite. A reminder of our humanity. A way to reflect, rejuvenate, and recommit so we can do the work that still desperately needs to be done. (However, if interested, see The Conundrum of Joy.)
I explore so, so many intersectional topics (including environmental justice) when I ride my bike, and have researched and written about them in more depth in my book and on my blog by the same name. None of these topics are new to me, and yet I have so much still to learn. You might be surprised how much pain and promise is right there in front of you where you live, too, when you’re Traveling at the Speed of Bike.
I have more to share with you about every one of these photos, but I think I may just leave it like this for now — as we wait, and continue to work, for an answer.