It is and continues to be heartbreaking and horrifying.
This past weekend, protests erupted nationwide after the video was released of the 8-minutes-and-forty-six-seconds-long assault and asphyxiation. The protesters, who overwhelmingly believe in science and who also are disproportionally affected by the Coronavirus, are risking their lives amidst a viral pandemic because of the depth of collective desperation, pain, and hopelessness and because they see no other option. None of them has seen any positive change in police practices or justice despite such egregious criminal acts which have ravaged their communities again and again, ...and again. When "driving while black" or "jogging while black" and the scourge of an epidemic that is racism in the United States could just as easily get you killed on any given day, pandemic protesting (even with masks) sadly doesn't seem so life-threatening. Protest is the language of the unheard.
Thankfully, the murderous officer was promptly fired and has been charged with third-degree murder. I will not hold my breath, but hope that there is a criminal conviction, because so many of these law enforcement perpetrators (99%) have been shockingly acquitted for their violent and grievous offenses (and close to 50% are re-hired) and justice is badly lacking, while thousands of black and brown people, including those still adolescent children, are incarcerated for far lesser, nonviolent acts (and this video went viral because the murder was in public and in broad daylight. Think of all the other people that have been quietly assaulted off camera, perhaps not fatally, and before the age of ubiquitous cell phones and social media). I was thankful to see many police officers around the country (because there are good ones among the bad apples even though one rotten one spoils the barrel) speaking out and kneeling in solidarity. But much more radical and urgent change is needed (including widespread bodycams, banning choke-holds, charging bystanding officers and holding them accountable for their complicity, implicit bias and de-esclatation training, independent complaint reviews and termination of offending officers, improved selection of officers with the appropriate temperament for the job, and elimination of the essential immunity from convictions that the system holds for law enforcement officers. Check out 8CAN'TWAIT) so that the police actually STOP.KILLING.BLACK.PEOPLE. Something has to give.
While my heart could only handle only so much viewing of the news and reports, I saw so many pictures and photos were posted on social media comparing the officer's life-ending "kneeling" stance with the gesture of ex-San Francisco 49er Colin Kaepernick who "took a knee" to protest targeted killing of black Americans several years ago (and who was essentially black-balled from the NFL as a result and ridiculed by the White and political Right for being "unpatriotic"). The similarity but contrast is chillingly striking.
Well-meaning people of all colors with privilege of wealth, education, gender, or race, need to stop telling people of color how to show their outrage and anger and start acting like actual allies (decades of peaceful protest by communities of color has obviously not gotten the job done). Stop saying "All lives matter" (yes, all lives matter, but all people aren't getting equally screwed by white supremacist educational, social, law enforcement, and health systems). Acknowledge your own privilege and get outraged at the senseless loss of life (murderous "policing" by those supposedly keeping us all "safe"), not at the loss of property or your peaceful bubble of denial and comfort. Watch and listen to the video of a fully grown, 6-foot, 6-inch tall man (also a Christian, and father) call out for his (deceased) mama as he gasped for air, and try not to cry (when my children call out while playing, "I can't breathe," as George Floyd did [and to which another officer responded, "I don't care"], I literally freeze and experience an emotion of terror that is hard to name, and hard to shake off). The burden of action is not and should not be on the people with the weight of racism on their backs and literal knees on their necks-- it's on the rest of us who have privilege and power.
Please don't gripe about the inconveniences of breathing while mask-wearing and don't just "not be racist" in defensive, quiet and personal ways (otherwise, as Desmond Tutu said, you will have chosen the side of the oppressor and as Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote "In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends"). Be actively ANTI-racist and work to change inherently biased institutions. If you stay a bystander, as the Minneapolis police offers did, you quietly benefit from systems of oppression and are part of the problem. Don't be complicit. Black people literally can't breathe.
For ideas of what to do if you're lucky to not be living this nightmare firsthand (and if you will never have to deal with sending your brown or black child out into this world to become an adult faced with such threats), check out this extensive list that my friend (and accomplished black woman) Nicole sent me. There are many actions you, especially if you're feeling helpless, can take to start becoming a true ally. You may not get everything right. You may be uncomfortable. But you will probably never be "having-a-knee-crushing-your-trachea-to-the-point-of-suffocation" uncomfortable.
Vote (especially to get the Racist-in-Chief out of office so that his views and those of his supporters don't have a national platform). Elect women and people of color to local, state, and national offices that have concentrated abusive power in the hands (and knees) of mostly older, white men.
Donate (money) to worthy causes (as the list includes) and support black-owned businesses.
Encourage diversity and include students, artists, writers, and other professionals of color in your workplace, on your teams, and in your life.
Read the many excellent books and testimonies of black Americans, their history, and their struggles. I personally LOVE Colson Whitehead's and Ta-Nehisi Coates' works, as well as Bryan Stevenson's Just Mercy. The New Jim Crow (eye-opening) and White Fragility (which is on my list) are two others. The documentary "13th" on Netflix is also incredibly powerful.
Talk to your white friends and relatives specifically about white supremacy (systems and individual attitudes) and its harms, and call it out when you see it, even when it's uncomfortable.
Pray (which is one acceptable thing to do on your knees).
Listen--especially to the viewpoints of those of color, because they have important things to say, and their voices are so often silenced and suppressed.
Teach your kids that being "color-blind" is NOT enough. They should and will see color and its inequities unfold in their lives. They should learn about them (here are some book recommendations), and be prepared to stand up for such injustices (my not-yet-in-kindergarten five-year-old son already knows all about discriminate police shootings of black and brown people, slavery, segregation, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr.'s teachings and assassination ["at the age of 39 in Tennessee," he reminds me], as well as the extermination of Jews via the gas chamber in concentration camps). The world is not all unicorns and rainbows and I won't present it that way even though my children are privileged in more ways than one (even though they're mixed races and brown in color). Black and brown children don't have the luxury of the choice of a carefree childhood or growing up in a world without the imminent and acute threat of violence, and my children will grow up knowing this reality.
As Nelson Mandela said, no one is born hating others-- hate of a group of people is a learned social behavior modeled by the actions and molded by the words of parents, family, educators, leaders, and members of their community including faith leaders. Choose your community wisely. Ensure that your kids meet and interact with kids and people of all shades and backgrounds rather than keeping them sheltered in your safe place and safe space (when physical distancing recommendations are relaxed, of course) so that they don't grow up with prejudice and a fear of people who are "other."
Love your (black, brown, and even rainbow-colored) neighbors, and check in with them frequently.
The last four years have been, by far, the most challenging of my life, with so much anxiety about our country, the world, and the future for my children, stemming in large part from the white-lash that was the 2016 election and its aftermath. All of the pain is more acutely raw now in 2020, with a pandemic and economic depression on top of everything and all-encompassing devastation in the communities of citizens of color, who are incredibly vulnerable in the best of times. I maintain a small amount of hope that with our hearts split open and eyes opened further, looking forward to November of this year, we can (despite disagreements and polarization which have only been widening in recent years) make a statement about what core values we hold dear as a nation. Systemic oppression and violence of such magnitude is not new-- it has been present for more than four hundred years in the history of our country. It will not go away overnight, but we can all (left, right, brown, or white) take small steps to make things better. It's needed (knee-ded). It's urgent. It's way past time.
