please don't shoot.
Again, I find myself on the down side today. 151 dead after a bomb explosion in Baghdad last week. A young American girl residing in Israel stabbed to death while sleeping in her bedroom, around the same time. And then, today and yesterday, back-to-back killings of two more black men by not-black police officers under very unfortunate and questionable circumstances.
I didn’t want to watch the videos. I really didn’t. But, to fully understand what happened, honestly looking for some reason to maybe be able to make an excuse—ANY EXCUSE—for the excessive force, I bit the bullet (so to speak) and pressed play. First, I watched one video of Alton Sterling being brought to his knees, then to his stomach and face, by two police officers who I might politely describe as “aggressive” in their “attempts” to “de-escalate” the situation. Then, I watched the second one. Different angles. Same action. Same result. Guns drawn. Bullet to the chest. Expletive. Expletive. Blood spilling forth from a fresh cavity. Limp hand groping at the wound in a failed attempt to stem the bleeding. Then the slow burn as the “Oh shit!” moment (forgive me, Mom) quietly set in. The people in the adjacent car who witness and smartphone camera-captured it are jarred by the reality of what’s just happened—that they’ve just witnessed another human being (and, yes, a black one) be shot at point-blank range less than ten feet away. I can’t imagine. Worse. I can’t imagine that being me. But, that’s just it. That’s the saddest part. If things continue moving in this direction, that COULD be me. That could easily be me, or one of my friends, or one of my cousins, or any other person of color. And I know we all like to think that any of us (all people) could stumble upon an unfortunate situation or just end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is true. However, these two most recent incidents should make it abundantly clear that all things are not equal, haven’t been for a long time if ever, and there is so much work to be done.
But wait. There was still another video of another killing to be watched. After I stomached the two videos of Alton Sterling’s death and read the accompanying blow-by-blow on npr.org, I turned my attention to Minnesota and the still-unfolding story of Philando Castile. The second this video begins to play, we’re first-person sitting next to a young black man bleeding out, as his girlfriend runs commentary in a fairly matter-of-fact manner. Shortly after, we hear a policeman instruct her to keep her hands on the wheel as he points his pistol at the passenger side window, in her direction.
I’m not sure what’s the most disturbing thing about this one. The death. The brazenness. The fact that any seemingly routine traffic stop can escalate that quickly to the point of no return. The girlfriend’s relative nonchalance to her dying boyfriend slumped next to her as she attempts to capture it all for the world to see. The fact that a four-year-old child in the back of a squad car is bearing witness to it all. It’s madness.
To spare any of you from having to watch people dying on camera, I’ll share two more details that will likely come into play later on, during courtroom deliberations, should it get that far. 1) She admits that there was weed in the car. 2) She identifies the officer as “Chinese,” which adds another layer. She doesn’t say “asian.” She says “Chinese” which, to me, further reinforces the need for all of us to get a grip on how we view one another and to make true strides and breakthroughs when it comes to race and human relations.
Two more lives lost. Two more families devastated. Two more communities divided. Two more reasons for us to reflect. Two more opportunities to be honest with ourselves about how we proceed, what we put out into the world, what we stand for, what we believe to be true, how we view and treat one another. Two more situations that could have easily been avoided but weren’t.
Most days, I consider my skin an asset. On days like this, I’m reminded that it can just as easily become a liability. There’s a police station right around the corner that I ride by in my car and on-bike several times a day, and I generally don’t think twice about it. I continue to aspire to a world in which I don’t have to think twice (or even once) about it.
With a heavy heart, I’m just an unarmed black man, sitting here, pouring my heart out on Facebook to all of my friends and the world, any defining characteristics aside. Please don’t shoot.
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