A Funnel Cake, A Missing Kid, and a Moment That Sparked Change

It happened at the Juneteenth festival—music, food trucks, kids everywhere. I looked away for maybe five seconds to pay for a funnel cake. When I turned back, my nephew Zavi was gone.

Panic hit fast. I was yelling his name, scanning every bounce house, every tiny face in the crowd. I was about to call 911 when I saw him—curled up, fast asleep, in a police officer’s arms.

The officer—calm, collected—told me Zavi had wandered off near the snow cone truck and got tired. “Didn’t want to leave him alone,” he said.

I was flooded with relief. But around us, people were whispering. Some smiled, others didn’t. One woman muttered, “Must be nice to get that kind of response.”

It took me a second to realize—they weren’t reacting to Zavi being lost. They were reacting to who was holding him. And what that might’ve looked like if Zavi were older, taller, or not asleep.

Would the officer have been as gentle? Would the outcome have been different?

That question haunted me.

Zavi is a sweet, energetic Black boy. And in that moment, he was lucky. But we both knew that if he hadn’t looked so small, so innocent, the story might’ve had another ending.

My sister and I talked. Then we posted our story online—thanking the officer, Officer Davies, for his kindness, but also calling attention to the deeper issue.

The post went viral.

People shared their own stories. Some pushed back, but others understood. Then something unexpected happened: Officer Davies commented. He thanked us—and acknowledged the deeper concerns.

That led to conversations with the local police department, a town hall, and eventually, community meetings. Officer Davies showed up to those, too. He listened. He spoke. He even started a youth program to build better relationships between cops and kids.

We’re not activists, but we found our voices. And we used them.

Zavi? He’s still just a kid—happy, loud, and completely unaware of how his nap in a cop’s arms turned into something bigger.

One day, we’ll tell him the whole story—about kindness, about bias, about the power of speaking up.

Because sometimes, change starts with a missing kid, a kind officer, and the courage to ask hard questions out loud.