It was April in the states, I had a ticket to backpack through Europe with friends in hopes of making it to Amsterdam for King’s Day, and Freddie Gray had just been killed by police in Baltimore, Maryland. Being raised not far from Baltimore and feeling very connected to the situation due to a racially-motivated run-in I had with the law several years ago that left me face down with a gun on my head, I strongly reconsidered my trip to stay and march in the streets. My friend, Terrence, who’d just learned of my trip two days before departure, asked, “why are you going to Europe? To seek asylum?” Perfect!