I know I cannot be the woman in that photograph. I cannot be indignant, no matter how righteous my fury. And even if I were inclined, I couldn’t shout at a police officer—not in his face, not from across the street. I couldn’t grip my waist and jam my chest against his. “I would not make it home,” I tweeted a few nights ago. ...I do know this: Similar actions by a person of color, specifically a black woman like me, would likely end up with us in jail, in a hospital or who knows—like Eric Garner, on a medical examiner’s table. I know that I cannot carry a gun in public and neither can my sons, even if it is a toy. If I lay prone on an open highway and point an assault rifle at a federal agent, my next stop would be federal custody or the nearest county morgue. Open carry laws are not meant for me. The rules are different. It’s what it means to be black in this country. The reality is none of us are truly colorblind. Having a badge does not erode one’s propensity toward racial bias nor does it preclude any actions informed by it. If anything, officer training and in-field policing methodologies reinforce those beliefs. It is that predilection toward suspicion of black males that drives an officer to see my sons as older and more prone to criminality than their white counterparts. In the most extreme cases, it allows for the extrajudicial killing of black people without consequence. Conservatives, and many liberals, fight with that truth. But the fact of the matter is the equal protection they cling to is not the reality. To the contrary, it remains a virtue to which this country aspires, but it’s one that only some of us can embrace.
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 00:35:18 +0000
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