Youth Radio’s Dani Tarver performs a powerful piece about the injustices young black men face growing up in America with police brutality and racial profiling.
Having to spend my childhood rehearsing for the day a police officer would pull me over may sound scary. And I’m aware it’s not something parents of all races feel the need to teach their kids. But the day it actually happened, I was grateful that my mom made sure I was ready.
Dani Tarver performs a powerful piece about the injustice young black men face growing up in America.
Minutes after arriving in St. Louis, Mo., to report on the events in Ferguson, I bumped into Cephus “Uncle Bobby”…
The fatal shooting of Michael Brown, 18, in Ferguson, MO resonated deeply with young people in Oakland and all over the country. Youth Radio sent a reporter and producer to Ferguson, MO to witness the events and amplify local youth voices and perspectives.
This video highlights the voices of African American young men growing up in Oakland, California, whose lives are touched by many of the issues raised by My Brother’s Keeper.
Youth Radio’s Joshua Clayton doesn’t have a high opinion of the police. In fact if he was robbed — he wouldn’t even call them. Clayton, 20, grew up in Oakland, Calif., and thought these problems were specific to Oakland. Until he spoke with Kasiem Walters, 18, who lives in New York City. Walters has advocated for ending the Stop-and-Frisk policy that a federal judged recently ruled unconstitutional.
George Zimmerman’s verdict is not the first time African Americans have faced injustices in our “justice” system.
I grew up in a middle-class, suburban county in New Jersey, but now I’m a twenty-something intern living in a low-income part of Washington, D.C. The realtor euphemism for such neighborhoods is “transitional,” a word that implies ongoing change. This is ironic because I feel that so many of the residents here feel as though things will never change, and will always stay the same. Since moving here, I’ve already become accustomed to the wail of sirens, the disconcerting, yet reassuring pulse of blue and red light through the heavy bars on my windows.