Two weeks ago, on the last day of classes for Oswego State students, there would have been the Bridge Street Run.

Students would have worn white shirts, with friends signing their arm with a Sharpie.

There would have law enforcement, both Oswego City police officers and University Police, patrolling the streets keeping everyone safe.

Music would have been played all around the city on speakers; large gatherings of friends having fun.

But on Sunday, instead of walking down Bridge Street, they marched up it.

Instead of sharpies on shirts, they were used on different poster board signs with slogans like, “Respect existence, or expect resistance,” “Am I next?” or “Silence = acceptance,” to protest—along with numerous other cities across America—the death of George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota, after a police officer kept his knee on his neck for nearly nine minutes.

From city hall in Oswego to Sheldon Hall on campus, students and community members yelled in unison, “Black lives matter,” “No justice, no peace,” and “Hands up, don’t shoot.”

Cars on the opposite sides of the road honked in support. Motorcycles revved. Others on the sidewalk recorded the large group with their phones.

“It’s scary to be out here,” Takayla Beckon, 19, said. “But we’re gonna do it anyway.”

The day’s events started around 1:30 p.m at city hall, hundreds of people gathered around the small plaza next to the police station. A few speeches took place, talking about the injustice of the death of Floyd and the overarching Black Lives Matter movement.

Omar van Reenan, a recent Oswego State alumnus, led the chants and the speeches.

Most of the crowd adhered to social distancing rules due to COVID-19, wearing masks and trying to maintain distance. There was a small but vocal opposition, but all remained civil with the few Oswego police officers standing around the crowd, taking watch.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat anything,” van Reenan said. “There’s no freedom without equality.”

Protestors laid on the ground with hands behind their backs for nine minutes in silence, to represent how long the Minneapolis police officer who killed Floyd crushed Floyd’s neck with his knee.

Speeches were punctuated by protestors’ chants, “Please let me stand, I can’t breathe,” “Say his name.”

The goal Sunday was clear: bring justice to Oswego, New York and America.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” van Reenan said.

Nearly 50 minutes later, the march of protestors started on West Oneida Street and went all the way up West Bridge Street to the Oswego State campus—a 1.4-mile walk.

Closely behind the mass group of people was a late 1990’s, early 2000’s Toyota four-door sedan. The white car was missing some of exterior component but its message was unmistakable and complete

Bonita Rodriguez, of Camden, emblazoned her vehicle with the words Black Lives Matter on Sunday morning. People were taking pictures of the car and complimenting the her and her friend’s work—and it only took 20 minutes to make in her parking lot at her apartment.

“My car is my poster,” she said. “I don’t have any serious plans yet, but if I hear anything, I’ll definitely show up [to other protests].”

Protests took a knee at Sheldon Hall with their fists raised high; others gave speeches, one had a poem. And at 3:00 p.m., everyone left the scene with heavy hearts still chanting; some were thanking police officers for keeping them safe.

“All lives can’t matter until black lives do,” van Reenan said, followed by applause and cheering. “I’ve been in Oswego for four years, and I’ve finally seen the city stand together.”