Editor’s note: This piece was originally written by Taylor Patterson during the Spring 2019 semester. It can be read in its entirety here.
I dig my sneakers deeper into the soft slope of the earth, the victory bell visible between my dirt-stained knees. This is where student protestors stood on May 4th, 1970, before they knew of the tear gas, bloodied bullets, the sound of death. I look out over the field, a group of men play lacrosse in blue penny jerseys, a woman tying a hammock between two oak trees.