Thank you for last week’s “On I.C.E.” column. Your question, “What can be said as we watch state-sponsored violence for the first time in our short lives?” made me queasy. I was unpleasantly surprised to learn I attend a school where students could mistakenly claim this is the first “state-sponsored violence … in our short lives.” Perhaps this is the first time we, in our short lives, are viewing footage of white people being killed in broad daylight. I am compelled to “call in” your attention to state-sponsored violence committed by the police and other state agents against Black and brown bodies.
Growing up, I remember walking around my elementary school in a hooded sweatshirt and removing it, remembering that a hoodie contributed to Trayvon Martin’s “suspicious look.” Maybe I overreacted, but this anecdote demonstrates some Americans’ requisite hyperawareness of their vulnerability at the hands of neighborhood watch volunteers, police officers and immigration agents.
I hope your statement about witnessing state-sponsored violence for the first time was an error in your prose’s precision combined with heightened emotions of the current moment, and not a lack of knowledge. You are probably familiar with the names and stories of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. But they are far from the only victims of state-sanctioned brutality within our lifetimes. Messiah Nantwi was beaten to death by 10 correctional officers in 2025. Sonya Massey was murdered by a deputy in her home in 2024. Javier Ambler was killed during a traffic stop in 2019. Stephon Clark was shot (while holding a cell phone in his grandmother’s backyard) by police officers in 2018. The officers fired twenty rounds at him, including one when his body was on the ground. 12-year-old Tamir Rice was shot by a Cleveland police officer in 2014. He died the next day.
Let me remind you: The police — and the governments that fund them — are supposed to keep us safe.
Furthermore, I disagree that “our days hardly changed within our privileged Kenyon bubble.” Yes, we are all privileged to be at Kenyon, but making sweeping claims disregards the realities of community members who rightly feel threatened and unsafe.
I recognize that for many students, their days have hardly changed and they feel helpless viewing footage and hearing accounts from cities where I.C.E. is active. But tiptoeing around requesting people take action (“When doing what’s right could cost your life, who are we to ask that of you?”) negates powerful sacrifices made by activists and everyday citizens, and reinforces the mindset that we truly are powerless. The advancements made during the Civil Rights Movement were only successful because people chose to relinquish their comfort and privilege. Consequential actions are necessary to generate meaningful change.
Spend your money intentionally. Echoing last Friday’s strike, I encourage generally avoiding unnecessary purchases. Without money, corporations cannot operate and contribute to repressive regimes. If you’re looking for a place to start, boycottcitizens.org has a list of companies that benefit from I.C.E. I use the app Goods Unite Us for further insight into the financial contributions of the establishments I patronize, and generally try to support small, local or independent businesses.
Use your other currency — time — to invest in community. Let us hold each other closer, emotionally (spending time discussing current events and mobilizing peers) and physically (especially in protest). And remember that some of us have always grappled with state-sponsored violence firsthand. Learn from that.
Sidney Plummer ’26 is a religious studies and studio art major from Albany, CA. She can be contacted at plummer1@kenyon.edu.