Nine minutes and 29 seconds.
Five years ago today, on May 25, 2020, the world watched, and time stood still. The United States, and later the world, observed in horror as George Floyd, a Black father and community member, begged for his life beneath the knee of a white Minneapolis police officer.
Nine minutes and 29 seconds changed the course of history. In less than 10 minutes, millions witnessed the moment life was pressed out of him, while bystanders pleaded for mercy. Something ancient and aching in the soul of this country cracked wide open.
In the days that followed, the United States saw one of the most profound uprisings for racial justice since the Civil Rights era. And for a moment—just a moment—it seemed as if change might finally come. But now, five years later, we find ourselves asking: What has truly changed? While the date may be different, so many things seem to remain the same, or worse.
Back then…
At this time in 2020, our country was in the throes of a global pandemic. While the virus in the air threatened lives, the sickness of white supremacy was laid bare. Those who claimed not to believe racial injustices were as prevalent or distressing, witnessed on video the blatant disregard for Black life. And in that moment, a time when it was still unclear the dire health impacts of in-person human activity, it was racial injustice—not COVID-19—that ignited mass movement in the streets.
Protesters around the country took to the streets equipped with signs and wearing masks. The masks served a double purpose—serving as protection against a deadly virus but also to protect identities in an even deadlier police state equipped with digital surveillance. The demands were straightforward: accountability and a modicum of safety and dignity for Black lives.
A crisis was ongoing, but in those times of despair, hope also found a way in. A better tomorrow seemed attainable.
…And Now
In 2025, the crisis remains—but this time, the threat is exacerbated by political regression. Donald Trump, as he was on this day in 2020, has returned as president and is using every lever of executive power to reverse the gains made since 2020. The hope that many carried through grief and uprising feels suffocated by policies that embolden the very forces of police impunity that killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and so many others.
The Global Uprising for Black Lives
The murder of George Floyd was not just a tragedy; it was a catalyst. Around the world, millions flooded the streets in all 50 U.S. states and in over 60 countries. From London to Lagos, Tokyo to Toronto, the cry was clear and consistent. Black Lives Matter.
In those bleakest of days, there was light. Communities organized mutual aid, reimagined safety, and pushed local governments to reduce police budgets and invest in mental health services and housing. Books on abolition and anti-racism became bestsellers. Companies and politicians pledged to do better about racial injustice. Many entities around the world issued bold proclamations, promising resources and focus on racial justice moving forward.
Five years ago, it seemed that today would be a much brighter day.
Where Are We Now?
Now, that momentum faces existential threats. The Trump administration has not only refused to learn from the past, it seems to be actively working to entrench the systems that caused the crisis. Those same companies that rushed to issue statements of solidarity, or pledged billions to racial justice initiatives all while promising to transform their cultures have quietly dismantled their Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) departments, walked back commitments, and purged language about systemic racism from their platforms. Either due to the threats from the Trump administration or a chance to cut costs, it is hard not to see the actions in 2020 as performative—a timely PR strategy masquerading as moral courage. The retreat sends a painful message: Black lives mattered when it was trendy, but not when it required real, sustained change.
At the executive level and with undertones of white supremacy, President Trump has issued executive orders to empower law enforcement, including those with documented histories of racial discrimination. The most recent order has the harrowing objective stated to “unleash America’s law enforcement.”
He also has directed the Department of Justice to stop pursuing civil rights investigations of police departments, and perhaps most egregiously, he has announced that his administration will no longer enforce consent decrees, including the one stemming from the DOJ’s damning investigation into the Louisville Metro Police Department—the same department that killed Breonna Taylor in her home during a botched no-knock raid.
These are not isolated actions—they are a blueprint for reestablishing impunity for police violence.
How Do We Stand Up
Just as dangerous as the mindset and policy rollbacks are the systematic erosion of our right to dissent. In the wake of the 2020 protests, over 100 anti-protest bills were introduced across the country, criminalizing everything from blocking traffic to organizing demonstrations. Many of these laws disproportionately target Black and Indigenous protesters, immigrants, and queer activists. Amnesty International has extensively documented this trend. Laws were introduced across the country, criminalizing everything from blocking traffic to organizing demonstrations. Many of these laws, when enforced disproportionately target Black and Indigenous protesters, immigrants, and queer activists.
On top of these challenges, the online platforms that once helped drive mass mobilization have turned hostile. Twitter/X, Instagram, and TikTok have consistently been accused of utilizing their algorithms to suppress speech that may be in support of Black-led organizing. Online, we see a rise in shadow banning, where posts or comments are hidden from other users when they go against the views of the billionaires owning those media. The digital town square is now much more privatized and manipulated, making it harder for activists—especially young, Black, and marginalized ones—to organize and be heard.
Justice In Policing
It may seem dire, but we also know there is a way forward. The movement spurred by George Floyd’s murder proved that there is widespread consensus on the need to end police brutality and create systems of true accountability. That consensus still exists. What we lack now is political will.
One thing that we ask now is to urge legislators to reintroduce and pass the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act. This legislation would ban chokeholds and no-knock warrants, end qualified immunity, and create a national police misconduct registry. It’s not a radical demand—it is a baseline for dignity.
As the commitments to racial justice began to fade, the bill stalled in the Senate in 2021. This bill is too important to let sit especially when the communities that marched in grief and rage in 2020 are now being told that the government has no responsibility to protect their lives.
2020 > 2025
The past five years have not been easy. We’ve seen performative allyship morph into silence. We’ve seen hard-won reforms reversed. We’ve seen families forced to grieve all over again every time the system fails another loved one.
But we’ve also seen resilience. We’ve seen new leaders rise, new coalitions form, and new visions take root. We’ve seen that people power works—when it’s loud, when it’s strategic, and when it refuses to let go. On May 25, 2020, in 9 minutes and 29 seconds, George Floyd’s life was stolen. Let us remember him by pushing—again—for justice. Let us demand what we know is possible. Let us build a future where Black lives are not just mourned but protected.