Which One Is He? (I Forget...)

Today I came across this headline:

"If you don't understand Black Lives Matter after Terence Crutcher's death, you never will."

And I thought, "Which one is he?"

And then I realized what I had asked - which Black man, which unarmed citizen, which person whose killing by one or more police officers was filmed, which person whom I have watched die, was Terence Crutcher?

And I realized that I had asked because I have lost track. Is Terence Crutcher the one who was walking backward with his hands at his side? Or the one whom the helicopter cop described as "a bad dude?"

He's not the one who bled out while his girlfriend narrated his shooting on Facebook Live - that was Philando Castile. Or the one who died a day or two before that...somebody Sterling, right? I should remember his name more readily, because I have a bunch of nieces and nephews who are Sterlings. I could look him up, I will look him up, but now I want to observe that I only need to look him up because I've forgotten his name, and I think that is because his death was followed so closely by Philado Castile's, and when news of the latter reached my brain, it partially erased the memory of the former, because I started to lose track. Which one died where, under what circumstances? What did the officer say he did? What did the video show? Hands up, hands down, armed with a gun, armed with a knife, armed with a toy, empty-handed? Which is who, and where, and how many times was he shot?

I have not heard of an unarmed victim of a police shooting being my age, so I feel safer than I might feel if I were under 50, and much safer than I would likely feel if I were under 30. When I say safer, I simply feel that I am less likely to be shot dead than my skin-brothers who are in those younger groups.

But hearing myself ask, "Which one is he?" puts me in fear of a different danger - the danger of becoming less human. I have already noticed a numbness setting in. My God, I am watching people die, and neither grieving nor raging.

Do I need to stay offline for a while? Do I need to march with signs? I don't know. But I do know this - I need a more human response than scrolling to the next item on Facebook. And a more effective one than turning to Google to refresh my memory of past killings.

"Which one is he?" is an insane question, and can only make sense in a insane world.

A Police Officer Speaks Out - Will Others Join Her?

A couple of days ago, I promised a post that would contain two videos. It took longer than I expected to get working links for both videos, but here we go.

The first video comes from New York City radio station WQHT, known as Hot 97. On-air personality Peter Rosenberg was discussing the death of Alton Sterling when a police officer called in to comment. Rosenberg asked, "Tell me this: on the surface, as an officer yourself, it looks bad, no?"

The caller hesitated to respond, and Rosenberg responded to that hesitation:

Rosenberg articulated something that I have long believed: that the cases of officers killing unarmed and/or compliant citizens represent bad policing, and that police officers should be the first ones to say so, because such bad policing degrades the entire profession. These killings represent and illustrate defects in training and in culture in America's police departments that will not be cured until officers themselves demand it.

The so-called "blue wall of silence" must come down. For good cops to remain silent while some of their own violate the rights of those whom they are sworn to protect is immoral.

In every single one of the high-profile cases of citizen deaths at the hands of law enforcement over the past two years, the citizen has been Black (for the record, I believe that cases involving non-Black victims deserve more attention than they have received. I'll return to that subject in a future post.). So perhaps it was inevitable that in the first video that I have seen of a police officer calling out fellow officers, the officer speaking is Black.

Nakia Jones is a police officer in Warrensville Heights, a suburb of Cleveland. After viewing the video of Alton Sterling's death multiple times, she posted this video to Facebook. She speaks from her heart; please listen from yours:

I thank Officer Jones for speaking up as she has. Now I'm going to speak directly to rank and file members of police departments across the country. This is to officers who, like Officer Jones, experience anger and pain when they see fellow officers' misconduct result in citizen deaths.

America needs you to speak up.

At the very least, you need to go ahead and say that the death of Alton Sterling looks bad. But if, like Officer Jones, when you watch the video, you see murder, you need to say that it IS bad. You need to express your own anger and pain beyond whispering in your locker room, weeping in your bed, or whatever else you may be doing other than speaking boldly. Because whatever that is, it's not working. It's not working for America, and it's not working for you.

I know that it's a whole lot easier for me to say, "Speak up," than it is for you to do that. I accept that the blue wall of silence is real. I know that speaking boldly, not only for the preservation of citizens' rights, but for the betterment of your profession, could cost you. I know that some of your colleagues, and some of your superiors, may believe that from Eric Garner to Philando Castile, the slain citizens likely got what they deserved.

But I'm guessing that those people are a minority among police officers. If I'm right - if the majority of you agree with Officer Jones - then America needs to know that.

And if saying so results in any type of retaliations from your departments, America needs to know that, too, and to stand with you as you stand up.

You may feel that you, as an individual, are too small for your speaking up to matter. Perhaps you agree that something must be said, but believe that it should be said by someone higher up - a department chief, or even Chuck Canterbury, national president of the Fraternal Order of Police.

But America can't wait for them. America needs you to speak up, now. You, the good cops, can make this horrific week the turning point in how America does policing by bringing your insights, your integrity and your authenticity to our conversations about it.

I'm addressing myself to police officers, but I know that - initially at least - more civilians than officers will read this. So I'm asking each reader, civilian or officer, to join me in taking what may feel like a radical leap of trust. In writing this, I am trusting that there are more good cops than bad ones out there. So I'm asking my fellow civilians to join me in that trust, and in saying to those good cops, "If you speak up, we'll stand beside you - not just with good wishes but in whatever practical ways are needed." And I'm asking good cops to join together in trusting that there are more civilians for you than against you, and that if you speak up, we will stand with you.

If we, civilians and officers, do not do this together now, I believe that the mass killing of officers in Dallas will prove to be a starting point, as more Americans respond to the worst of police misconduct with terrorism.

Only good cops can tear down the wall of silence. America is waiting.

A Mother's Quatrain - In Response To The Responses To The Responses To #FreddieGray

I WISH TO HIGH HEAVEN THAT POLICE OFFICERS IN AMERICA WOULD STOP BRUTALLY KILLING AMERICAN CITIZENS.

BUT WHEN THEY DO, I wish that media would give parents of the victims the space to grieve,

BUT SINCE THEY DON'T, I wish that people would not expect the grieving parents to suddenly become diplomats, emissaries of the outside world to their grieving communities. to tell them how wrong they are to express their grief - and their rage - in certain ways.

BUT SINCE THEY DO, THEN I WISH TO HIGH HEAVEN THAT A PARENT WOULD SAY, JUST ONCE, FOR ALL THE CAMERAS AND THE MICROPHONES...

something like:

I know y'all are hoping that something I say
will help to keep people from rioting today.
But I don't care if they burn all of it down.
My child is worth more than this whole damn town.

(P.S. - I call it "A Mother's Quatrain" because it was a mother's image that came to me. But I would be glad to hear a father say it, as well.)

****************
After I hit "publish," and auto-scheduled tweets to share this, the following lines came to me, as something the parent might say to those who challenge or question the above:

I used to be meek, and I've always been mild.
But what would you say if it was your child?

And that, I think, would end the interview. 

MEMO TO MYSELF, 20140819: WORK IT THROUGH.

I have been in a state of some confusion for the past month.

On July 18th, I had this following exchange with a friend on Facebook:

Friend: U sleep or watching Shark Tank?
Me: Actually, neither. Watching disturbing videos and asking if we need armed revolution.
I did get in a good nap, though 
Friend: Sounds serious
Me: Yeah, I think I just watched a brotha get killed by police. On the street, in broad daylight, for no apparent reason other than that he asked to be left alone.

This is the video:

The question of whether or not we need armed revolution, stirred by the horrific death of Eric Garner, was still at the back of my mind when a police officer in Ferguson, Missouri shot and killed an unarmed teen, Mike Brown, on Aug. 9. That killing has since sparked a much larger response than the death of Eric Garner did (indeed, the Eric Garner story has virtually disappeared from the news. Some might see conspiratorial intent there. I blame an increasing inability on the part of Americans to pay attention.). Not only have the streets of Ferguson seen public protests - people outside of Ferguson have expressed solidarity with the protestors, including students at Howard University who posed for this picture that went viral after being posted on Twitter by Megan Sims (@The_Blackness48) on August 14:

When I saw that, I was surprised by my own response.

Here was a photo of scores of college students, who stereotypically are among the most self-involved people on earth, expressing solidarity with protestors halfway across the country, a photo that would likely have inspired me and made me feel proud as recently as July 17. I mean, this photo helped to galvanize support for the citizens of Ferguson, so it's a good thing, right?

But when I saw it, I did not feel inspired or proud. I felt annoyed.

Not, I think (I hope) with the students - but with the whole idea that people should have to protest by displaying powerlessness.

Suddenly, I wanted to see...weapons. Rifles, in particular.

I wanted to see law-abiding American citizens raising, not empty hands, but rifles. I wanted to see law-abiding American citizens, conveying to police a message that said, not, "I'm unarmed, don't shoot," but, "I'm armed; try it if you want to."

I know that unarmed protest and civil disobedience have played a huge role in Black Americans' historical quest for justice. But I am seriously wondering - is it time for more of us to arm ourselves? More specifically, is it time for more of us to arm ourselves, in order to defend ourselves against police? Is it time for more of us to practice open carry - especially our law-abiding young men? (who knows, maybe if more of our law-abiding young men were armed, they could curtail homicides by both demented cops and knucklehead criminals)

I don't know yet what to do with these thoughts, other than to acknowledge them. I don't yet know who else is having similar thoughts. I should do a search; I'm sure I'm not the only one.

I need to work this through; it may make a huge difference in how I live the remainder of my life.

Of course, simply contemplating the arming of law-abiding citizens is a far cry from saying that we need armed revolution. As the Founders wrote, that option only comes into play when citizens note that "a whole train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism." And we don't have that happening in America, right?

Right?