A protester asked the Tennessee National Guard to lay down their riot shields. They did

Justin Jones asked National Guard members who were guarding the Tennessee State Capitol to lay down their riot shields. 

They did.

Jones and other demonstrators had gathered for a vigil at the steps of the Capitol building in Nashville on Monday evening as protests against police brutality and racism continued around the country.

The vigil took place as the Tennessee General Assembly reconvened at the Capitol after suspending this year's session in March due to the coronavirus. Several Democrats had walked down to join the demonstrators while their party colleagues and Republicans watched from the Capitol balcony. Jones has led protests in Nashville for years, including at the Capitol.

Hundreds gathered at the Legislative Plaza across from the Capitol to mourn the lives of black men and women killed by police. The crowd sang, prayed and chanted together before moving their group to the steps of the Capitol while they sang "This Little Light of Mine."

Protesting is a family affair 

Lacrisha Johnson, 31, attended the vigil with her 5-year-old daughter, Kingsley. 

"I have to plant the foundation for her young," Johnson said. "She can see solidarity. She can see things being peaceful."

Johnson's daughter was born in 2015, months after 12-year-old Tamir Rice was killed by police in Ohio and the same year Freddie Gray was killed in Baltimore. Raising a biracial child while the killings saturated public conversation has been emotionally startling, especially as Johnson started explaining race, privilege and police violence to her daughter. 

"It's extremely hard," she said. "Not only was I still learning myself, I now had to articulate that for her to understand."

Part of teaching her daughter is using intentional language.

"We're out here because a man was murdered," Johnson said. "I don't use the word killed. I use the word murdered. You kill a fly." 

Z Hall, 30, who is from Memphis and has lived in Nashville for the last decade, said she felt called to attend the vigil because she comes from a line of protesters that stretches back to her great-grandfather and the Civil Rights Era.

Generations of family members have fought for their rights to be expanded, and the tradition continues on with her. 

Although she doesn't have children, her friends do. She has nephews and younger family members. Watching them grow is a beautiful experience, she said, but a fear swells inside her. She's worried they could become victims of police violence.

"We lost our fathers, our grandfathers, our uncles," she said. "I'm not willing to lose our children.

"It's terrifying. What do I do?"

Saturday's protest 

Two days before, the Legislative Plaza was the site of the "I Will Breathe" rally to protest the death of George Floyd, a handcuffed black man who pleaded for air as a white police officer pressed a knee on his neck, and other victims of police violence. The rally was peaceful, although vandalism and altercations with police by individuals after the event led to the deployment of the National Guard and a curfew order in Nashville, which remained in effect starting at 10 p.m. Monday.

Trey Gibson, 20, attended Monday night's vigil and Saturday night's protest — the first time he's attended a demonstration. 

He was drawn to recent protests in Nashville to speak out against police violence. He said this is the first time such protests have been organized in the area since he's become an adult and politically active. 

Gibson said Saturday's crowd held more anger than the vigil. Monday's gathering was about healing, and it had a clear, guided purpose, he said. 

Although the crowd cheered when members of the National Guard put down their shields, Gibson had a different reaction: it was a meaningful gesture, but what about accountability and action? 

"I feel like it's symbolic," he said. "It looks good, but I'm not buying it. I need to see something concrete.

"I'd say the majority of the police want to do good. It doesn't matter how many good cops there are if the 95% don't hold the 5% accountable." 

Earlier in the day, President Donald Trump urged governors around the nation to use as many National Guard troops as possible to control the ongoing protests and threatened to deploy the U.S. military to "solve the problem for them" if they did not.

Gibson, who is black, said he has been questioned by white people as to why he's in their neighborhoods. He said a white woman reported him to law enforcement when he was recently visiting a family member in South Nashville. 

The police treat young adults differently based on their schools, he said. Gibson attends Tennessee State University, a historically black university, and said their parties and gatherings are treated differently by law enforcement than what attendees of non-HBCUs experience when they host an event. 

Gibson encouraged white people to use their privilege and voices to enact change: show up, listen and call out injustices. 

"No one can change it by themselves," he said. 

Hall agreed that white men and women should use their voices to amplify those belonging to people of color. 

"We need white people," Hall said. "You have to put your job on the line. Your livelihood on the line. Your body on the line." 

It can be hard to hold friends and family accountable, Hall said, but it has to happen in order to enact change. Have those hard conversations and call out racism. 

"If this is a revolution," she said, "it has to be a revolution."