I have had so many conflicting thoughts since I heard that
Tony Robinson was shot and killed by a Madison Police Officer. My first thought
was, “no, not again. Please not in our city.” My second thought was a much more
depressing one. It was resignation. Attendance at Madison's first "Writers for Justice" event last Saturday, March 28th, finally gave me space to write about it.
When I first ran for alder, in 2007, creating awareness
about “two Madison’s” and finding solutions to help us converge upon a path
toward a more just and unified city was my motivation for running. “Two
Madison’s” has now become the rallying cry of many elected representatives. Watching
and listening as Madison public officials finally talk about equal opportunity,
race issues, incarceration rates, homelessness, living wages, and justice as
real issues that exist in our community has given me a sense of hope.
But then I think back to late night council debates where we
declared war on homeless people instead of homelessness, where we closed
entertainment venues that were frequented by people of color, where we
increased bus fares, failed to raise the minimum wage or pass paid sick leave,
and, finally, where we added 30 police officers in an emotional, politically
expedient but not well thought out response to one neighborhood locked in fear
of an “emerging, Chicago-based criminal element.” So despite our improving
rhetoric, there remains a canyon between what we say and what we do.
My thoughts draw back to a wider angle as I seek to view the
events nationally or even globally. And when I do that, I remember this is how it
has always been. From serfs to slavery to Jim Crow, the poor, the marginalized,
and people of color have been systematically mistreated, lynched, burned,
dehumanized, and left to whither on the vine with relatively little in the way
of guilt, shame, or a cultural rebuke by the privileged who have always and
continue to benefit from systems of oppression.
My next thought was to look at more recent
history. Real change grew from the seeds of the civil rights movement a half
century ago, but it should not be a surprise that these issues still haunt us (sadly,
in both memory and reality) as they are rooted in the consciousness of a nation
still a mere instant removed from slavery or societally sanctioned race based
discrimination. And so, as I look back from a historical perspective, I find
myself unsurprised.
October 14th, 1982 was a watershed moment: the
day that Ronald Reagan called drugs a threat to national security and declared
war upon them. That one day, arguably more than any other in the constantly
evolving history of our nation, profoundly changed everything that has happened
since. If we consider the ripple effects of that day along with our societal unwillingness
to address the root causes of racism, crime, and intergenerational poverty, combined
with our increasing fascination with violence and guns and the militarization
of our police forces, Tony Robinson’s death shouldn’t surprise us. Nor should the
deaths of Michael Brown, Eric Garner, John Crawford, Ezell Ford, or the
countless others that don’t get national media attention or often do not even
get reported.
When we string racism, poverty, drug wars, media coverage, the
prevalence of guns, three strikes legislation, a corrections system that
prioritizes everything but, and militarized police forces together, it seems predictable
that shootings like these are so common.
I am not sure our species has ever known true justice, so
defining it is a certainly a challenge. One way to approach a definition is to
look at another word with which we have more familiarity: injustice. A single
mom working three jobs at minimum wage and not having money to house or feed
her children; the countless number of homeless people who apply for job after
job and cannot find work; an ex-offender who has served his time and cannot even
get a job interview or find an apartment; the redlining policies of the last
generation that robbed African Americans of a fair chance at economic equality;
or a black man getting discriminated against, profiled, or shot and killed because
of the color of his skin – all are situations that most can agree feel at some
level like an absence of justice.
But this story is not about injustice in all its manifestations.
This story is about police killing unarmed black men. In particular, this is my
attempt to make sense of the death of a 19-year old boy on Williamson Street in
Madison, Wisconsin. I remember my two hour conversation with Madison Police
Chief Noble Wray, during a council budget debate, over whether it made sense to
add 30 new police rather than investing those dollars in measures that could
attack the root causes of crime. I remember the numerous interactions I had
with him and his officers during my six years in office. I always came away
with the same conclusion: the Madison Police Department was, in all likelihood,
about as good as it gets when it comes to policing in the 21st
century United States.
They believe in community policing and neighborhood
officers and most of the concepts necessary to build trust in challenged areas.
Despite that, a common reaction of struggling, mostly minority neighborhoods in
Madison following the Tony Robinson shooting? That they would be better off
without police. We have not even approached the starting gate if the people
most likely to encounter police, and those most likely to need their
assistance, have that belief.
Police Officers have incredibly difficult jobs in a frightening
society filled with guns and people with the capacity for violent behavior. And
that is why this issue will never be resolved if it is somehow over-simplified
into merely white against black, police against general public, or armed
against unarmed.
In order to make real progress, we must deal with the root
causes of everything behind these realities: from media coverage to race
relations to the drug war to gun control to incarceration techniques. But if we
want to table all those massive changes for a moment, and zoom into ground zero
on the police issue itself, then there is really little choice in what we need
to do: demilitarize our police forces, transform police officers into members
of the community, prioritize relationships and trust building with the people
they represent, and make sure police departments know their primary purpose is
to value and honor and dignify every human with whom they have contact.
Officers should be hired, trained, promoted, and rewarded to
that end. As challenging as their jobs are, we simply must have police that
honor all the people for whom they
work. If there is a shooting, it should always be due to a circumstance that
left the officer no other choice. None. If there is a killing, it must be
because deadly force was the only
option. And both the justification and circumstances behind all shootings must
be run through the transparent filter of sunlight for the entire community to
see. Because not only should police shootings of unarmed citizens be so rare as
to be almost unheard of, but in the rare instance where they do occur, there
should be one and only one priority: ensuring that the community does not lose
faith and trust in its police. We need to expand beyond community policing and
neighborhood officers: we need to evolve to a place where the term police officer is synonymous with peace officer.
Imagine a Madison where everyone in our City sees MPD as an
active and engaged part of the solution. While the march toward actual justice
will sadly require a matrix of complicated choreography, eliminating police
killings of unarmed black men would represent a pretty profound first step.
No comments:
Post a Comment