If you need to get caught up on where this piece takes off from, read my article about non-blacks feeling the weight of blackness in America. Yes, this is another article about the death of George Floyd and other black men and women brutalized and killed by law enforcement officers. When women were fed up with rape culture in Hollywood, they spoke up with the mantra, “time’s up.” I don’t want to hijack their movement which after many years has righted many wrongs, but I do need to borrow that energy! After watching yet another black man die at the hands of police brutality, we’re here to say the same.
The movement has been co-opted and hijacked by white people seeking fame and seeking to discredit the valiant cause. We will not be silenced! And to those wishing to deflect the conversation and responsibility of the movement by bringing up black on black crime, I have this question: Since officers can solve black on black crime so well, where’s the disconnect when one of theirs is in video committing a crime? What about the super sleuths on the force which can break up a criminal enterprise but feel so comfortable existing as part of one? Does your goodwill and integrity clock out when you clock in on the force?
To those good cops out there who are tired of getting the blame, I’m not sorry. As a law-abiding black man, this is the weight I feel when an officer speeds up behind me, hoping I have a warrant (because I can visibly see him searching on the laptop in his cruiser). I’m a good guy, I pay my taxes, give in church, love my family, and even vote in each election, why am I living under presumed guilt when An officer sees me? I don’t just want officers to see me as a just man; I actually want simply be alive after they see me.
How did we get here?
This past decade rivals one of the bloodiest in our country’s history. If not a return to the lawless days of the 60’s when black people, men in particular were hunted down by white men who never faced prosecution, it is a dangerous reprisal.
With the death of George Floyd, the world saw just how bad it is on the street for a black man. The world has again seen that the greatest terrorist in the world is a uniformed police officer. The people’s response to this? We’ve taken it to the streets! The President wants to arm the military against citizens but where in the world are my friends who took up arms and marched to the Capitol, City Hall and Governor’s mansions for a haircut?!? Where are y’all? These people don’t love the constitution, they love themselves and use loopholes in the constitution for the sole purpose of self-aggrandizement.
With all this marching and protesting going on, what will it take for cities, counties and states to take action and actually change? The remaining three officers are yet to be arrested, and cities with the same police brutality problem have made no sweeping changes. In fact, they’re committing the same crimes during the protests (we see you, Louisville). What if anything are municipalities doing? It feels like they’re just waiting for it all to just “blow over” and get back to business as usual.
Come on, man, what else does this country need to see before people in power are moved to do something? What needs to happen to spur immediate action? It’s obviously not the death of an unarmed citizen. But is it the death of an official? Officers? What is it? Obviously the death of an unarmed citizen at the hands of FOUR police officers isn’t enough? Making matters worse, George Floyd was a black man like hundreds of others before him!
What will it take?
We thought Freddie Gray would move the needle (his death was so heinous), Philando Castile? He couldn’t even get support from the NRA and adding insult to injury, the officer was acquitted! What is it all for when nothing is happening? In a letter condemning the killing of George Floyd, the major Cities Chiefs Association has juxtaposed itself against this moment in history. Law enforcement leaders have the audacity to rise to the podium and chide protesters (looters, be damned) but won’t say a word to officers or how they plan to flatten the curve of citizen deaths at the hands of their departments.
It’s laughable that police chiefs have spoken up to decry the actions of the officers in Minnesota but on that list I noticed that Fort Worth’s Chief Krause (Atatiana Jefferson) and Dallas’ Chief Hall (Botham Jean) lent their support. Oh really? Is that how it works?!? Hypocrites!! How can you condemn in the heat of the moment when you won’t rise to the moment when it’s in your house?
It’s time to start making changes. I’m tired of law enforcement brutalizing citizens of all races so I’m speaking up. Am I hated for it? Sometimes. Do I feel misunderstood by my friends? Sometimes. Do I have a higher calling to answer to? All the time! So, time is up on the tolerance bad police behavior. We are here, wherever that is for you because we are tired! The United States has erupted in protests and in solidarity with sensible citizens who will no longer sit idly by, nations all over the world have joined in. Dr. King joined others in Montgomery, Alabama yesterday (nearly 65 years ago), and we are here today; but if we are still here tomorrow, the fires of injustice will finally consume this nation! We refuse to tolerate systemic racism in law enforcement, time is up!
We’re Here Because We’re Tired
And you know, my friends, there comes a time when people get tired of being trampled over by the iron feet of oppression. There comes a time, my friends, when people get tired of being plunged across the abyss of humiliation, where they experience the bleakness of nagging despair. There comes a time when people get tired of being pushed out of the glittering sunlight of life’s July and left standing amid the piercing chill of an alpine November. There comes a time.
We are here, we are here this evening because we’re tired now. And I want to say that we are not here advocating violence. We have never done that. I want it to be known throughout Montgomery and throughout this nation that we are Christian people. We believe in the Christian religion. We believe in the teachings of Jesus. The only weapon that we have in our hands this evening is the weapon of protest. That’s all.
And certainly, certainly, this is the glory of America, with all of its faults. This is the glory of our democracy. If we were incarcerated behind the iron curtains of a Communistic nation we couldn’t do this. If we were dropped in the dungeon of a totalitarian regime we couldn’t do this. But the great glory of American democracy is the right to protest for right.
The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Montgomery, Alabama, 1955
The last moments of George Floyd’s life were spent on a Minneapolis street with an officer’s knee in his neck. I’m conflicted by the large outpouring of support for George Floyd who was murdered by former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Floyd’s death was wrong, uncalled for, and unjust, but, wasn’t Amaud Arbery‘s death was the same? With coverage of the Coronavirus crisis eclipsing most other national news stories, many Americans remain unaware of the wrongful death of Louisville EMT, Breyonna Taylor.
It’s unsettling to think that even in a global pandemic, black Americans still face the threat of police brutality and murder. It’s chic for non-blacks to be outraged and so easy to jump on this bandwagon because everyone saw the injustice! The police serve to hold citizens accountable when they break the law, even unintentionally. But, who will hold law enforcement accountable when they do wrong, even unintentionally?
This problem doesn’t end with George Floyd’s death. It didn’t end with Philando Castile who was also murdered by a Minneapolis police officer. Philando Castile was a law-abiding, card-carrying member of the NRA who was shot, seconds after lawfully mentioning that he carried a weapon. Atatiana Jefferson was killed in her home, but her death was only the first of many in her family. Following her death, her father Marquis, and her mother (whom she cared for at the time she was killed) Yolanda Carr also passed away shortly thereafter. The toll on families is perhaps even a greater tragedy than the actual injustice.
Americans all over the country are outraged, and rightfully so. For many, this is the first time police brutality has grabbed their attention. They’re faced with the reality they have denied for so long but now, they get it. Cynical non-black Americans may finally be ready to harmoniously join what they have reviled as cacophony, the cries of black Americans who just want a chance to be seen. Black Americans want to be seen not as a threat or perpetrator, but as citizens deserving of the inalienable rights provided in the Constitution. For those whose anger will subside with the onset of a new news cycle, this is a great time for you to have a long look at the person staring back at you in the mirror.
That feeling in the pit of your gut? That’s the inconvenience of going forward with this same outrage. Black Americans live with it, every day! The trauma of chattel slavery, segregation, redlining, Black Wall Street, Jim Crow era violence perpetrated against our forefathers, and the murders of agents of change like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Medgar Evers is in the DNA of black Americans and is passed down to each generation. We don’t get to stop making noise nor can we afford to take days off from being vigilant about where we go, how we maneuver through stores, restaurants, and other places of business. We just want to live, but we’re tired.
It seems to always happen with our non-black friends who start to weigh and second-guess their posts on social media and never even stop to think how safe their non-black sons and adult men are during traffic stops and other police interaction. Because non-blackness is seen as an asset and not a liability, soon, you too may feel it irrational to keep this conversation alive in your circle of influence. You’ll feel silly for thinking about it, and you may even feel threatened for speaking up. Either way and if but for only a moment, you have felt the weight of blackness this week.
Thank you for carrying it this week, but do you intend to carry it once this news cycle ends? The weight of blackness is not ultimately carried by black Americans, alone. It’s carried by those that see the problem and are willing to say, “he ain’t heavy…” you know the rest. This challenge is to all our brother’s keepers currently and conveniently riding today’s wave of outrage.
The fact that we carry the weight of blackness well doesn’t negate the fact that it’s heavy. Say the names of these martyrs to people that refuse to hear them. Speak their names and tell their stories with empathy and not disdain. As we again find ourselves at this impasse, we must choose to cross over together. This means that non-black Americans must help lift black-American perception and possibility across the bridge to a better tomorrow in hopes of finally making this country as great as it purports itself to be.
Here we go again, another crazy week in the media…and in our neighborhoods. With the highly publicized shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, all forms of media have been frenzied since the first video was uploaded to Facebook last week. Also a part of the frenzy happens to be the millions of viewers, worldwide. In our varied attempts to illuminate the plight of black men in America and the violence many face at the hands of police, we’ve used these videos to bolster our strong viewpoints. These video shares are not without hidden damage.
Last week, after watching the Philando Castile video another video surfaced showing another angle of the officer involved shooting in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. After watching nearly the entire video, I had to pause the video. I didn’t look away when the shots were fired, and I didn’t look away when I saw blood…I looked away when I realized that I was watching Alton Sterling die. Literally taking his last few short breaths there on the ground. I was angry, but something else was happening. Rage? Fear? Confusion? All of this happened at once yet pausing the video didn’t wrangle the wild emotions.
From there, I was embroiled in heavy Facebook dialogue, some of which came off the pages and into phone calls and text messages. Some brought severe division between myself and some of my longest standing friendships. Once again, we reminded that I am black and they aren’t. As a journalist, I wrote…unapologetically about how the deafening silence from what should and could be our friends is hindering any possible progress. I chided religious leaders for having nothing major to say…and then, it happened…
The unthinkable…someone declared war on the police! Before the night ended, five Dallas officers were dead and seven others wounded from the attack. Of the five deceased officers, one was a friend. A fellow band nerd, Officer Patrick Zamarippa. My days at Paschal High School were full of self discovery and the struggle of being young, gifted and black. A speech that began as a diatribe in search of empathy towards our community ended with me tragically searching for the words to comfort mutual among perceived enemies. When I say #BlackLivesMatter, I post it to a mixed audience. Last week, I wasn’t met with #BlueLivesMatter or #AllLivesMatter, I was met with…SILENCE!
On Thursday evening, I made a concerted effort to reach out to old friends I’d undoubtedly yet inadvertently alienated by expressing my disdain with the week’s earlier shootings. I had to also re-visit a quandary that plagued me during High School. Many who were quick to memorialize Patrick as an officer of the law and veteran of the US Armed Forces were the same ones that paid very little attention to him in band. You see, we were divided back then, in band and in school. Did we make awesome music? You bet and nobody will ever take that from us. The lines that divided us somehow followed us into adulthood yet we find ourselves drawn together again, by this senseless loss of life.
Can you imagine the week I’ve had? It pales in comparison to any of the families who lost loved ones or even those who remained trapped in a live crime scene last Thursday night. Some were in their cars for hours, a very good friend and colleague Shannon J was in her car for 10 hours while the officers subdued the suspect and continued their investigation into Friday morning.
Trauma. That’s the word for it. We’ve been traumatized, the whole nation. This is the prime example of why so many have been rendered speechless. Some fester in silence; but for many the reality of violence whether at the hands of officers or a trained sniper, has rendered them speechless. What we have uttered is the best we can and even that has taken both a tremendous level of courage and a huge toll on us. A week later and many have yet to understand the gravity of the toll. I reached out to Dr. Kristen Guillory lend her expertise about the psychological ramifications any of the videos and ensuing interaction may have had on us. She had this to say:
“…it’s not about not watching but making sure you’re aware of the possible impact as well as what to do when you’re impacted- counseling, stepping away, prayer, etc and the signs. There a lot of layers and how to identify the signs in a loved one”
This I agree with and want to encourage any of you who suddenly “feel some type of way” following the events of last week to seek help and encourage others to do the same. Human lives matter. Your quality of life matters and help is available if you need it. Not all of us involved are on the front lines, still the effects are there. People like myself have contributed to progress via the various forms of journalism. I hosted a live show on last Friday with Dick Gregory, Fred Sandifer, Reggie Williams, the Rev. Kyev Tatum and Nichole C. Mullen that allowed us to talk about our feelings and what we need to do on both sides of the conflict. I can’t make it to every march or gathering but I am doing what I can where I am. Even so, I experienced trauma last week and will be doing what I can to heal where I am as I help make healing possible for others.
Think of the impact of seeing ones mother get hit, or seeing a child get hit or even what soldiers see in combat. Rosie O’Donnell suffered from depression after the Columbine shooting and she didn’t see anything. I’ve been concerned about those who not only watched but how learning of this information impacts us because many didn’t share deeply with someone how they really felt in the moment. We let it fester. (“Dr. G” Kristen Guillory)
Have you spoken to anyone about how the turmoil in the nation affects you? We need to decompress. Perhaps a moment to breathe, but how can that be so with the image of a dying Eric Garner saying: “I Can’t Breathe” seered into your subconscious? When do we breathe again, where oh where is that sigh of relief? I don’t know…
Calamity surrounds us and if the world remains unchanged, shootings and violence will continue. I urge you take pre-caution when engaging in social media following the events. Cover your mind and your heart, keep your well being in mind. We want to get perspective, we want to know what facts can be derived from video, but we also must remain vigilant against the onset of undiagnosed symptoms of mental illness and directly attributed to the exposure/overexposure to graphic content.
Here we go again, another crazy week in the media…and in our neighborhoods. With the highly publicized shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, all forms of media have been frenzied since the first video was uploaded to Facebook last week. Also a part of the frenzy happens to be the millions of viewers, worldwide. In our varied attempts to illuminate the plight of black men in America and the violence many face at the hands of police, we’ve used these videos to bolster our strong viewpoints. These video shares are not without hidden damage.
Last week, after watching the Philando Castile video another video surfaced showing another angle of the officer involved shooting in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. After watching nearly the entire video, I had to pause the video. I didn’t look away when the shots were fired, and I didn’t look away when I saw blood…I looked away when I realized that I was watching Alton Sterling die. Literally taking his last few short breaths there on the ground. I was angry, but something else was happening. Rage? Fear? Confusion? All of this happened at once yet pausing the video didn’t wrangle the wild emotions.
From there, I was embroiled in heavy Facebook dialogue, some of which came off the pages and into phone calls and text messages. Some brought severe division between myself and some of my longest standing friendships. Once again, we reminded that I am black and they aren’t. As a journalist, I wrote…unapologetically about how the deafening silence from what should and could be our friends is hindering any possible progress. I chided religious leaders for having nothing major to say…and then, it happened…
The unthinkable…someone declared war on the police! Before the night ended, five Dallas officers were dead and seven others wounded from the attack. Of the five deceased officers, one was a friend. A fellow band nerd, Officer Patrick Zamarippa. My days at Paschal High School were full of self discovery and the struggle of being young, gifted and black. A speech that began as a diatribe in search of empathy towards our community ended with me tragically searching for the words to comfort mutual among perceived enemies. When I say #BlackLivesMatter, I post it to a mixed audience. Last week, I wasn’t met with #BlueLivesMatter or #AllLivesMatter, I was met with…SILENCE!
On Thursday evening, I made a concerted effort to reach out to old friends I’d undoubtedly yet inadvertently alienated by expressing my disdain with the week’s earlier shootings. I had to also re-visit a quandary that plagued me during High School. Many who were quick to memorialize Patrick as an officer of the law and veteran of the US Armed Forces were the same ones that paid very little attention to him in band. You see, we were divided back then, in band and in school. Did we make awesome music? You bet and nobody will ever take that from us. The lines that divided us somehow followed us into adulthood yet we find ourselves drawn together again, by this senseless loss of life.
Can you imagine the week I’ve had? It pales in comparison to any of the families who lost loved ones or even those who remained trapped in a live crime scene last Thursday night. Some were in their cars for hours, a very good friend and colleague Shannon J was in her car for 10 hours while the officers subdued the suspect and continued their investigation into Friday morning.
Trauma. That’s the word for it. We’ve been traumatized, the whole nation. This is the prime example of why so many have been rendered speechless. Some fester in silence; but for many the reality of violence whether at the hands of officers or a trained sniper, has rendered them speechless. What we have uttered is the best we can and even that has taken both a tremendous level of courage and a huge toll on us. A week later and many have yet to understand the gravity of the toll. I reached out to Dr. Kristen Guillory lend her expertise about the psychological ramifications any of the videos and ensuing interaction may have had on us. She had this to say:
“…it’s not about not watching but making sure you’re aware of the possible impact as well as what to do when you’re impacted- counseling, stepping away, prayer, etc and the signs. There a lot of layers and how to identify the signs in a loved one”
This I agree with and want to encourage any of you who suddenly “feel some type of way” following the events of last week to seek help and encourage others to do the same. Human lives matter. Your quality of life matters and help is available if you need it. Not all of us involved are on the front lines, still the effects are there. People like myself have contributed to progress via the various forms of journalism.
I hosted a live show on last Friday with Dick Gregory, Fred Sandifer, Reggie Williams, the Rev. Kyev Tatum and Nichole C. Mullen that allowed us to talk about our feelings and what we need to do on both sides of the conflict. I can’t make it to every march or gathering but I am doing what I can where I am. Even so, I experienced trauma last week and will be doing what I can to heal where I am as I help make healing possible for others.
Think of the impact of seeing ones mother get hit, or seeing a child get hit or even what soldiers see in combat. Rosie O’Donnell suffered from depression after the Columbine shooting and she didn’t see anything. I’ve been concerned about those who not only watched but how learning of this information impacts us because many didn’t share deeply with someone how they really felt in the moment. We let it fester. (“Dr. G” Kristen Guillory)
Have you spoken to anyone about how the turmoil in the nation affects you? We need to decompress. Perhaps a moment to breathe, but how can that be so with the image of a dying Eric Garner saying: “I Can’t Breathe” seered into your subconscious? When do we breathe again, where oh where is that sigh of relief? I don’t know…
Calamity surrounds us and if the world remains unchanged, shootings and violence will continue. I urge you take pre-caution when engaging in social media following the events. Cover your mind and your heart, keep your well being in mind. We want to get perspective, we want to know what facts can be derived from video, but we also must remain vigilant against the onset of undiagnosed symptoms of mental illness and directly attributed to the exposure/overexposure to graphic content.
