Tamir Rice – the 12-year-old boy who was shot by cops while playing with a toy gun in a park.

Eric Garner – the New York father who was captured on video saying repeatedly, “I can’t breathe,” while an officer held him in a chokehold.

Sandra Bland – the driver who died in police custody (allegedly by committing suicide), after being stopped by a cop for changing lanes without turning her indicator on.

Trayvon Martin – the Florida teen who was shot by Neighbourhood Watch enthusiast George Zimmerman. His only crime seemed to be walking through a nice neighbourhood while being black and wearing a hoodie.

We listed about 10 incidents that have taken place since 2012. The interesting thing – and it probably wouldn’t be noteworthy anywhere but in the US – is I wasn’t lamenting this with two black people. I was talking to an East Indian-American man and a white woman.

I am a black Brit – born in London, partly raised in New Jersey – who has lived in Los Angeles for 11 years. For the last four I’ve watched race relations in this country worsen, and tensions rise, as cases like the ones I’ve listed above seem to occur with more frequency.

As the Black Lives Matter movement gained traction following the acquittal of George Zimmerman in 2013, I’d see the phrase pop up in my Facebook newsfeed.

It started off with African-American women – usually mothers, usually my aunts – wearing T-shirts and sharing posts in support. Young, socially conscious black men (my friends and cousins) would post statistics and links to op-ed pieces. One relative, Cid Nichols, was on the front lines protesting after her successful social media campaign led to the Millions March NYC in December 2014.

But in the past week, something has changed.

“It’s a human rights issue that should outrage everyone, regardless of race”