Three counts.
Derek Chauvin is (legally) a murderer. He murdered George Floyd. On Tuesday evening, Chauvin was convicted on all three counts—second-degree murder, third-degree murder and manslaughter.
Black Twitter had their collective eyes on their respective screens watching to see the results from the ongoing live-streamed trial.
We heard the verdict for three separate counts. Did we take three breaths for each count? How exactly can you describe a cautiously released breath after holding onto the little oxygen this country has allowed us to engage in? How do our hearts feel after pounding against our chests in anxiety while awaiting the decision of a justice system we can rarely (if ever) trust? How do we constantly reckon with this ongoing traumatization and re-traumatization of verdict results that never ever (nor could it ever) result in true justice for the families who lost their loved ones? How exhausting is it to even let out that relieving sigh during an era (including a pandemic and uprisings) where everything feels more acute? How do we even process the very concept of a “sigh of relief” after reacting to a trial that wouldn’t have even happened if Chauvin had fucking heeded Floyd’s last words? Is the slightly lighter weight we feel right now only to be replaced by the weight of anxiety as we await the sentencing? Or by another police brutality trial?
There’s no way to succinctly answer all of those questions right now, but I will say that the varying emotions looked something like this before the verdict was read:
And this is how it looked after:
So, while we as Black Folks, hold our breaths for America’s next transgression, please allow yourselves to marinate on the frames within this video to bring you some relief...even if it’s brief: