Everyone look at this picture. It’s hard to look at, I know. But really look at it. You see what I see, right? You see what everyone in America sees, right? Now ask yourself just one question:
Is this OK?
Even with zero context, even if you’ve been asleep the last 96 hours and this is the first time you’re seeing this, is this in any way OK?
If you said “yes”
If you hesitated at all
If you said “No, but…”
…Then you need a mental evaluation to certify you as the psychopath you are.
Now add the context to the story: His name is George Floyd–know his name. He was handcuffed and restrained. There were 3 other officers there as “back up”. He was arrested for a non-violent crime–an alleged crime that turned out to be false, by the way. This man was not a threat at any point in time.
The man with knee on his neck is named Officer Derek Chauvin–know his name too, because it’s the name of a murderer. His restraining method with a knee on a handcuffed man’s neck isn’t police procedure. He kept his knee on Floyd’s neck for 9 fucking minutes. He did not let up when Floyd said he couldn’t breathe. He did not let up when he said his stomach hurt, or when his neck hurt. He did not let up when George Floyd screamed that he was being killed. And the three other officers stood back and watched.
Now look at the picture again with the context behind it. If your blood doesn’t even begin to boil, I can’t possibly begin to imagine how emotionally dead you must be.
And yet there are people out there who are trying to justify his death, or rationalize the officer’s tactics. There are people who wanted to “wait and see” what the story is, or posited “You don’t know the whole story. What happened before the camera started rolling?” Honestly, this is a picture that needs no story. This is a white man in a position of authority with a figurative and literal boot to the neck of a defenseless black man. This is a police officer killing a man as he begged for his life. There’s no need for the story of what happened beforehand. Because, regardless of what happened, there is no crime deserving of this instant, torturous execution. If he had even broken the law, his punishment was for a judge to decide.
Some still doubt or downplay the fact that America has a major problem with racism. I don’t think one image in recent memory confirms how prevalent it remains better than this one still image.
This image will haunt me for the rest of my life.
***
I’ve been watching the entire time. I remember hearing about Rodney King when I was growing up. I remember Amadou Diallo, the first real case of police brutality I could understand. I remember Freddie Gray, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Walter Scott, Ahmaud Arbaury, Botham Jean, Eric Harris, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Breonna Taylor, and countless other “high profile” cases in my life. And each time it pained me to watch these cases of profiling, excessive force, and quantified racism go unpunished.
But as much as it pained me, I stayed silent. I didn’t get involved because I didn’t think it was my fight. I thought my input would be disregarded and my opinion would be unwanted, even though it often reflected the same disgust that the majority felt.
I am a white man in his mid-30’s. I fully recognize the privilege that comes with that distinction. I didn’t always have that cognition though. When I was younger, I would get defensive at being called privileged because it sounded like I had it easy, which I most certainly did not. But over time I was able to redirect my perspective that none of my hardships had anything to do with my skin. That living without fear of repercussions simply for the crime of being black or brown or tan or non-white is a built in feature of being born white.
I was able to see that, and recognize that it’s there. But many others refuse to accept that white privilege is very real. These people are able to do the exact same mundane things–get groceries, go for a jog, sit in their own home with a jug of ice cream–without a single thought or fear that it would be their last moment on earth. The fear of being executed for simply existing is very much alive in the black community, and the examples that are justifying that fear are growing by the day.
I stayed the sidelines as I watched the storms that followed each and every brutal unjustified killing, and I stayed quiet because I didn’t think I needed to say anything.
Then I saw this image. A knee on his neck. And I cannot stay quiet anymore.
Black lives fucking matter.
If this image makes you uncomfortable, then speak out, get involved, sign petitions, make phone calls, donate money, or… and here’s an important one… listen–really LISTEN–to the reactions and the stories and the feelings of everyone invested. Understand their anger and frustration without patronizing, without justifying, without marginalizing, and without drowning out their pain.
But don’t wait as long as I did. Don’t be silent. Because this is not OK.
A Story About Waffles 