So much that has happened in thee past few years has increased my cynicism about people, our country, the fate of our world, and corrupt systems. The news, especially nationally, is quite disheartening and exhausting for social justice warriors and sensitive people who tend to worry, and I have to limit my exposure sometimes to spare my heart.
We somehow survived a terribly malicious president that many people (and probably many people I once considered close or loved ones) voted for (probably twice) and who provided a platform for white supremacists everywhere. Anti-science views and vaccine hesitancy threaten to keep COVID alive and well in our country for many more months. California is bracing for another terrible wildfire season due to climate change and drought as we celebrate yet another Earth Day. We still hear of black citizens being murdered regularly at the hands of police every single week.
But, like after the presidential election in November, when 80+ million and the voting majority of Americans breathed a sigh of relief at having escaped a near-certain disastrous path that seemed highly possible (even probable), we also, bracing ourselves for the most likely outcome (because something like only one in 2000 police trials lead to conviction for the officer), gasped in disbelief (but also relief) on Tuesday of this week, when Derek Chauvin was found guilty of murdering George Floyd by a Minnesota jury after weeks of testimony, raw and comprehensive and conclusive footage (filmed by a teenager), and ten hours of deliberation. I personally have been so burned by terrible news and results that I don't even let myself dare to hope for the more just and better outcome, despite the obvious evidence and extremely low bar for a guilty verdict in this case. This, sadly, is the reality of our world now.
Last June, after George Floyd's murder, I wrote a passionate blog post about anti-racism. Like were so many others, I was shocked and horrified by the nature of the killing caught in its entirety by a bystander camera. I was also distraught at thinking of all the men, women (and kids) murdered before George, grieved for their families, and felt ashamed that we are all a part-- and complicit in--such a broken system. We are all flawed humans, but none of these individuals deserved to die for their mistakes. I am not black, but I am consistently brokenhearted for my black brothers and sisters, and I wished I could do more to help. George's killing (rightfully) sparked the largest mass protest movement in American history. If I had previously been a bit sleepy and complacent before in my privileged life, I was jolted wide awake.
The conviction this week, while too late, and not remotely enough, is worth celebrating (before we get back to work). It doesn't right the wrongs of the past. It doesn't bring back George or so many people before him (Trayvon, Sandra, Eric, Breonna, Elijah, Philando, to name a few-- say their names). Nevertheless, it did feel like a small victory for accountability (if not a small slice of justice). I don't know if it will be enough to change the behavior of citizens or law enforcement officers in this country going forward, or change the nature of implicit and explicit racial bias. Maybe fewer "bad apples" will choose to enter the police force and "better apples" will replace them. Maybe officers will think twice before firing, or performing choke-holds knowing that they could (possibly) be prosecuted for their wrongdoing, even though it took one of the most egregious cases, filmed in its entirety, to result in charges (and conviction). We've already seen notable police reforms start to be implemented in departments in cities across the country. Change of such a nature is incredibly and painfully slow. So many (white) people still don't recognize their safety and privilege. We don't know if Chauvin will be appropriately sentenced (we're still holding our breath). But this week's verdict is a start.
George Floyd, we say your name and we will remember this day. While you didn't ask to become a martyr and would have much rather been alive, your death will not have been in vain, and the change which may come as a result of such a tragedy (we hope) may change the trajectory of our justice system and policing for generations. The hard work for systemic institutional change continues.
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