An interesting thing often happens after a person of color dies at the hands of law enforcement. It's a trend we've seen many times in the past few years: suddenly, every single prior criminal charge or infraction, every arrest or police stop, major or minuscule, becomes the first thing people want to know about the victim.
It's hard to believe it's a coincidence, first of all, that black victims are slandered on social media and presented to the public as mug shots and criminal records while convicted criminals who are white are represented with images of them at their most photogenic:
When a black man is murdered, the media shows us his mugshot. When whites kill, we're shown their Instagram selfies. pic.twitter.com/IDYFR3sxO8
— Jordan (@jordansdiamonds) July 6, 2016
But let's put that aside for the moment.
Let's ask ourselves when and why it became our "duty" to investigate victims of police violence. Let's ask ourselves why we think we can determine someone deserving of extrajudicial execution by law enforcement officers when the victims never even got a trial. Let's ask ourselves why those officers can act as judge, jury and executioner and be put on paid leave while grieving families are left to pay funeral costs for their loved ones who allegedly committed misdemeanors such as resisting arrest, for example.
This extreme interest in black and brown victims' possible criminality after they are killed suggests a number of things. It suggests we do not want to feel grief, but instead want a reason to feel happy that this person is dead.
It suggests we believe police are an infallible authority on justice; that they always use the appropriate amount of force and enforce the law equally and have perfect, unquestionable judgement and an inability to make mistakes. It suggests we believe police exist outside of due process, are above the law, even though all people are capable of breaking laws (and it is unfortunate that it can take a suicide note to reveal that the police are capable of admitting to it. However, many officers who speak out against unjust policing are punished for it).
It suggests that we are less interested in the stories their loved ones share of the good things they did in their lives, and the people who loved and treasured them, than we are in the accounts of the law enforcement officers who did not have relationships with them, but were so afraid of them that they had to be killed. But why are they so afraid?
How can police protect and serve people they're afraid of?https://t.co/ERQcSktAdI
— Margie (@Loca2733Mc) July 8, 2016
Even fellow law enforcement officer Nakia Jones questioned this in a viral video.
I'm glad she spoke out! #AltonSterling #philandoCastile #BlackLivesMatters #OfficerNakiaJones pic.twitter.com/6cWlEKiP8P
— ⭐Diva⭐ (@ThisizDiva) July 7, 2016
The problem being discussed shouldn't have to be reasons why black and brown people are scary or criminal. Their appearance, mood and past are not responsible for their deaths in fatal police encounters if they are being stopped for broken lights, legally carrying licensed weapons, selling CDs, etc. Fear and suspicion of dark-skinned people carries the suggestion that they are inherently more violent, aggressive, selfish and criminal. That is racism.
All people should be allowed to have flaws and live, yet respectability politics continue to dominate discussions around police violence toward people of color. Police tell children that there are disproportionate and fatal consequences to not being perfectly compliant or showing unpleasant manners during police stops, when in reality, that is not actually how the law is written to work. If it is so easy for police to abuse the system, we cannot act as though it is difficult to believe that sometimes they do.
When we know that racism is alive and well all over our country, shaping the way we look at one another, we cannot insist that it doesn't affect members of law enforcement. But introspection is not the only evidence we have that suggests that.
The ASA, Leadership Project,Human Rights Watch, US Sentencing Commission, ProPublica, American Civil Liberties Union,Ohio State University,Bureau of Justice Statistics and many other organizations and institutions offer thorough evidence that racial profiling is absolutely real. So why, after subjecting darker skinned communities to harsher policing and higher rates of arrest and criminalization, do we insist that the most important thing to know about black and brown people is all the times they have been arrested and charged?
Philando Castile was not only initially pulled over for his "wide nose," basing his police encounter on his physical appearance, he was then subjected to the classic "dig up his criminal record so we can justify his death" treatment after he was shot to death by law enforcement. But what it also revealed was what the above studies also showed: as a black man, he was living under constant police attention.
Records for #PhilandoCastile tell the story of a man who was racially profiled by local police to the point of absolute absurdity.
— Shaun King (@ShaunKing) July 9, 2016
So, what I'm really trying to say is this: I don't care about his record. I don't care about Alton Sterling's record. I don't care about Eric Garner's record. I don't care about Michael Brown's record. I care about addressing the biases that make the world more deadly and the system more harsh to people of color.
