Remembering Tamir Rice on What Would Have Been His 21st Birthday
- JB Quinnon
- Jun 29
- 2 min read
Remembering Tamir Rice on What Would Have Been His 21st Birthday
On June 25th, Tamir Rice would have turned 21 years old.
Instead, we remember him not as a young man beginning adulthood, but as a 12-year-old child whose life was cut short in a Cleveland park while playing with a toy gun. Tamir never got the chance to grow up. He never got to vote, graduate high school, fall in love, or chase a dream. He never even got to speak for himself in court.
Tamir was met with deadly force within seconds of police arriving on the scene. There was no warning. No conversation. No de-escalation. Just a boy—playing in a public park—treated as if he were a combatant in war. The officer who shot him didn’t pause to consider his age, his humanity, or the context. Tamir was not presumed innocent. He was not given due process. He was not even given a moment to be understood.
The City of Cleveland eventually paid his family a $6 million settlement. But no amount of money could ever replace a child. The officer involved was fired—not for killing Tamir, but for lying on his job application. That detail alone captures the hollowness of the justice Tamir’s family received.
It’s impossible not to draw comparisons. When white men walk into churches, movie theaters, and schools with real firearms and leave behind trails of trauma and death, we often see them walk away alive. Sometimes even fed. Often with full legal representation. In stark contrast, Tamir had a toy. He was a child. And he was killed in less time than it takes to tie your shoes.
Meanwhile, figures like Kyle Rittenhouse—who killed real people with a real gun—were treated like heroes in certain circles. He was bailed out, defended, and praised by many. The double standard is clear. One was a boy at play. The other crossed state lines, armed and ready.
I was 23 years old when the tragedy of Tamir Rice shook the nation. It struck me deeply. The vulnerability. The injustice. The terrifying message it sent: that Black childhood is not protected, not presumed innocent, and not given space to exist freely—even in a park.
So today, on June 25th, we say: Happy Birthday, Tamir. We remember you. We mourn the life you were denied. And we demand that this country reckon with why your death was possible, and why so many others like it continue to happen.
You should have turned 21 today. But instead, we fight to keep your name from fading.
Written in remembrance. For Tamir. For justice.
Comments