Justice–For Now

I was wrong—and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Last May, I wrote these words

And we know how this will go, because we’ve seen it too many times:

• The dead Black man will be devolved into a creature deserving of death.
• The good officers will stay silent, protecting the murderer(s) because “the only color we see is blue.”
• The justifiable cry of frustration (marches, riots) over another Black man taken by law enforcement will degenerate into memes about “I hope they identify them all and take away their welfare” and “all lives matter.”
• The Justice Department (ESPECIALLY THE CURRENT JUSTICE DEPARTMENT) will investigate and say they couldn’t find a reason to charge the officers.
• After a delay of months—possibly years—those responsible will be found not guilty or there will be a mistrial/hung jury, because we have to understand these officers lay their lives on the line every day and unfortunately this “occasionally happens.”

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I wrote those words because I have seen variations of what I wrote above happen too many times in too many places:

In Simi Valley

In the streets of Cleveland

In New York

In a bedroom in Louisville

I wrote those words because I had grown to mistrust the justice system when it came to this type of case:

• Prosecutors didn’t seem to have their hearts in prosecuting police officers,
• Defense attorneys appeared to be given free rein in making the victim the one on trial,
• Fellow officers would come to the defense of the miscreant, no matter how heinous the act was,
• And—I’m sorry but I have to say it—there was always one juror (and we would find out after the trial it was almost always a WHITE juror) that decided the officer had a right to protect themselves from the SCARY BLACK PERSON, even when that victim was handcuffed, sleeping, or just being a child.

So I have to admit that I was steeling myself for a verdict that would perpetuate that pattern; a jury that would take days to reach a decision, and come back with a verdict that would acquit the coward of the stiffest charges and leave him with a wrist slap.

I’m glad I was wrong. I’m glad that some of my faith in the system was restored.

But there is a reality that we still have to face.

This was the original notice of what happened to George Floyd:

It was the courage of those who surrounded the coward who killed George Floyd that we found out the truth.

And even with that OVERWHELMING EVIDENCE, my chest still got tight when the reports started coming across that the verdict was in.

There was justice today—but George Floyd is still dead—and there’s a good chance the coward who killed him will serve less than 20 years for killing him (and will likely get a big Fox News send off before he starts serving his sentence).

There was justice today—but there’s still work to do. That work is best described in this tweet that came across my feed:

“A lot of ppl feel relief, but there is a certain type of relief I’m seeing in my inbox, group chats, TL, & on TV that is a special kind of non-Black relief. Like “it’s over.” Just know for those of us who are Black, we took a breath, but we know we still can’t fully breathe.

The simple reality is:

As long as people who look like me are getting killed over air fresheners.

(By the way—considering what has occurred [AND CONTINUES TO OCCUR] in Minnesota, I’ve decided that it’s best for my health that I add that state to the states South of the Mason-Dixon line that I have no plan on visiting….)

As long as people who are in uniform and look like me are being pepper sprayed and being threatened with “Riding the Lightning.”

As long as we have sheriffs calling on paper carriers and expressing more sympathy for the deputy who shoots teenagers than for the DEAD TEENAGER.

We still have a long way to go–and we are still trying to breathe.

Until Next Time…