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Justice Uncategorized

On Policing

My first negative interaction with police occurred when I was 15 years old. I remember it was a Christmas break. My brother was home from his freshman year in college and my cousin and I went with him and a friend to a Jerome Rowe party. It was somewhere downtown, I don’t remember where I was. I was still in the party that was about to end. People were making their way to the exit. As I walked down the steps I saw my brother being walked to a police van in handcuffs. I ran up. “Why are you arresting my brother?” “Because I told him to move on and he didn’t.” “It isn’t illegal to stand on the street and he was waiting for me.” “I don’t care and if you keep asking me questions I’m going to arrest you too.” My brother had his keys in his handcuffed hands and threw them to me. He said some choice words before the van doors were closed.

I drove my brother’s old fleetwood cadillac home. I stayed on the surface streets because I didn’t have a fucking license. I dropped his friend at home on the way. I made it home at close to 2am and woke my parents. My parents got up in the middle of the night to go get him. We made it home. They found my brother and brought him home. The charges were dropped immediately. I didn’t sleep that night. I haven’t thought of that story in years. But that story lives in my body. It lives in the suspicion I’ve had for all police since that moment.

I’ve had positive interaction with police since then. Mostly positive I’ll admit. But I have eyes and ears. I’m not blind. I see. I see the statistics – I see the how often police in this country kill people, black people in particular. I see the people who are over policed and arrested most. I see who remains silent when families are mourning and asking for justice. My suspicion is justified.

I have not taught my sons to hate police. I’ve taught them that most police are good, but there are bad people with badge. Honestly, I think the low barrier to entry, the weapon, and the power that comes with a badge is too enticing for certain personalities to resist. There are certain kinds of people who will be attracted to that for all the wrong reasons. Reimagining policing would start to weed some of that out. If you eliminate the shielding and protection of bad officers and focus on protecting and serving instead of catching bad guys, I believe the result would be different. If you focus on the mental health of officers (and the high amount of former military folks who become officers) you’d have a different result.

I have taught my sons to mind their hands when interacting with police. Don’t resist. I’ve told them it is ok to go to jail. Can you imagine telling your kid that? We can get you out of jail. We can deal with whatever charges are levied against you. I don’t want to scoop your body off of the street.

My oldest son is on the Autism Spectrum. He wears head phones everywhere. He doesn’t hear you if you aren’t making eye contact. If you surprise him, he very often swings fists in response. He is difficult to calm down when overstimulated. He tends to respond to the vibe of a situation before he can have a conversation. He moves instinctually. Watching the video of Jay Pharoah walking down the street after a jog while police approached him from behind with guns drawn scared the shit out of me. I immediately imagined my son in that situation. How can entrust the safety of one of the most precious parts of my life to people who see him as a threat before they know him? How can I entrust my safety to any of them if they won’t sniff out their own rotten eggs?

We try not to drive through rural areas at night. A few weeks ago we were thinking about driving to Texas. I didn’t really want to fly in the midst of a pandemic. As I thought through the logistics of the road trip, I realized I’d planned it to avoid driving through any rural areas at night. I thought about whether the SUV we’d rent would be tented. Police seem easier around families. I thought about where we might have to take bathroom and food breaks along the way. Driving across the Southeast. I was concerned about germs, the virus, and the people we’d encounter. What type of police are in these little towns? We decided to fly.

I would like to take a road trip without concern for my safety because of the color of my skin, specifically from police. I would love the privilege of worrying about garden variety things like whether we can grab food at a Wholefoods along the way instead of stopping for fast food. How nice the hotel is and if they have pool side bar service. For now I will catch my flight.

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Justice Most Popular

Don’t Keep That Same Energy. Get New Energy.

Stanford University recently released the results of a project studying police stops in 29 municipalities. The results reflected what most black and brown people knew instinctively; we are disproportionately targeted by the police.

This week we also saw the arrest of several prominent people, accused in a ring of bribery with the sole goal of obtaining admission to college for their children. The case involved falsifying transcripts, faking extracurricular activities, and cheating on SAT exams. Lots of people are caught up in this one. Most of them are white.

Here is the deal. We get stopped more often. Detained more often. Ticketed and arrested more often. Charged with more shit. We get more time for most offenses. We are more likely to bear the presumption of guilt until proven innocent. And the limited fiscal resources in our communities compound the issues we face when we are released or vindicated. That’s just in the criminal system.

For those of us below the poverty line, we are the reason for welfare reform despite the fact that the majority of the recipients are white. Somehow we are the face of the minute percentage of welfare fraud. Property values in our communities were legally suppressed through redlining, and have remained well below that of white communities since the process was outlawed. This devaluing of our property contributes the lower tax base that supports our schools with less money. In schools we are “disciplined” at 3 times the rate of our white counterparts. The measure of academic success is still based heavily on performance on biased standardized tests, resulting in larger achievement gaps that appear to prove that we are less than.

PWIs are the equivalent of another planet for many of our best students, resulting in unnecessary adversity due to the near universal requirement that we assimilate and become other to fit in. The speech, gait, and flavor of our youth is unacceptable inside the hallowed halls of higher education, unless we’ve got a ball or a microphone in our hand. Either that or you’re just an affirmative action admission, somehow making you less than.  Our safety is not guaranteed in towns that surround the campuses. They aren’t used to seeing people like us.

Maybe an HBCU is our choice to avoid the cultural insensitivity and blatant erasure. The struggles HBCUs exist in the form of underfunded programs and fewer resources compared to PWIs with those massive endowments. At least we are safe and nurtured and encouraged to be outstanding.

In our careers, we work three times as hard to get anywhere, and we are still perceived as other when we get there. Our seat in the room or at the table is constantly questioned. We are devalued and often relegated to diversity hires, as if being diverse is a bad thing and means you’d otherwise not measure up.

My point? When white people find themselves afoul of the law or using the system they created in the manner they intended and finding disdain in the public eye, I don’t want them to get the same treatment we get. I don’t want their sentences longer or fines bigger. I don’t want them to feel smaller or less than because of their color or background. I don’t wish our experience on anyone else.

I want compassion for everyone. I want reasonable penalties for wrong doing. I want real second chances without consequences that change the course of a lifetime. I want the misdeeds of one person to not continue to negatively impact generations over and over again. I want the opportunity of redemption for people who look like me. I’d prefer that we stop over accusing and penalizing any one. I want the playing field leveled, but at the level that is historically reserved for white people.

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Justice

Sandra Bland

Black Voices Framed Art Print Courtesy of www.society6.com

This is our country. No matter what color you are, this should outrage you. You should look in the mirror and say to yourself: “Self, did I do anything today or this week to be helpful to someone other than my family? Did I think about or consider a change in my day, an adjustment in policy that I control, or support for an issue where I can make a difference for people whose voices are not as loud or as strong as mine?”

People are losing their lives, losing opportunity to do and be better and make a difference in this country because of what they look like. Not what they did. And a society that is cool with that is begging for the slippery slope to make its way from this woman’s house all the way to your door step. And when it is your kid, mom, sister or brother, it is too late.

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Justice Spirit

Summer 2015

I’m itching to get home. On our trip, we visited the birth places of this country and saw many monuments erected in memory of the men and women whose vision and leadership set the course of this nation. It struck me, as I stood under the shadows cast by statues of these men and women and as I walked past their graves, how different they were. How if they were here now, they wouldn’t agree on every detail. But the unifying thread through their lives, beliefs and the quotes attributed to them, was the freedom to live as they choose and a commitment to equality and justice. Did they always make the right choices? No. We know that women and minorities weren’t even considered when making many decisions at the start of this country. They didn’t always come down on the right side of the issues of the day. Were they prefect? Hell no. They just didn’t have to contend with facebook and the interest. But they showed up and did the best they could with what they had before them.

This week, I’ve had all types of feelings about being American, being black, a woman, being married and a mom. I am grieving the loss of life in South Carolina at Mother Emmanuel. I am grieving for the continued lack of justice experienced by people of color in this country. I’m hoping that all of us have real honest conversations with ourselves and our friends and family about where we are and what we can do to show up and do our best to make this nation better. Ye, progress has been made. But we are failing in light of the ideals and ideas of our native heroes.

Freshest on my mind are these from the monuments at the National Mall in D.C.:

FDR – “In these days of difficulty, we Americans everywhere must and shall choose the path of social justice…the path of faith, the path of hope, and the path of love toward our fellow man.” 1932

“I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished.” “The test of our progress is not whether we add amore to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little.” 1937

“We must scrupulously guard the civil rights and civil liberties of all our citizens, whatever their background. We must remember that any oppression, any injustice, any hatred, is a wedge designed to attack our civilization.” 1940

MLK JR. – “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” 1963

“Make a career of humanity. Commit yourself to the noble struggle for equal rights. You will make a greater person of yourself, a greater nation of your country, and a finer world to live in.” 1959

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Justice

State Of Confusion

Thinking about the Zimmerman verdict, Trayvon Martin and his family, young black me and the realities of racial profiling, my husband, my sons, and the young black male teens on a crime spree over here on the east side of Atlanta. The unfairness that people can’t dress and look the way they want without judgment, the reality that life is not fair. Then I realize how confusing it all is. Do not be deceived or distracted. If y’all want to be mad, get mad at satan, who probably wrote this script and is loving all the anger and hatred flowing on both sides of this issue.

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Justice

King Center Visit

I took the boys on their first trip to the King Center. Looking at those exhibits reminded me that it hasn’t been that long. My parents were teens during the civil rights movement which means the very people fighting against equality are still alive. There are a lot of black folk still suffering the ripple effects of slavery, post slavery era, Jim Crow and welfare. Those of us that have prospered should not look down on our brothers and sisters who have not. And to my non-black friends, and friends from other parts of the country, please take time to watch a few PBS specials that go deeper than “We Shall Overcome”. The disparities in this country still exist.