Micah Johnson and Nat Turner

MICAH JOHNSON AND NAT TURNER

Given what I’m about to say, I’m embarrassed to admit it: I’m a white person who is both embarrassed and ashamed.  When I saw the reports about the shootings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling, I was struck dumb.  The only thought that came to my mind was “breaking point!”    

If after all the shootings of Black men wasn’t enough, now two more?  What were the policemen thinking who caused these two deaths?  Do they live in this country?  Are they totally unaware of the frightening spike in racial tensions that have grown increasingly intense with each new death? 

It was just a matter of time.  Having come of age in the period of Dr. King’s non-violent civil rights movement, I hoped the peace would hold but somehow I already knew it wouldn’t. 

I think half the country had the same “dark foreboding” something bad was going to happen.  Maybe we were still shocked when the news came out of Dallas that five officers had been gunned down by Micah Johnson—shocked but not surprised . . . and then Gavin Long in Baton Rouge killed three more. 

One story after another to send one’s head reeling . . . violence out of France---terrorist attacks in Paris and Nice--and then a long string of killings of Black men in America, culminating in two attacks upon police officers in Dallas and Baton Rouge: and the name Micah Johnson was broadcast to the world. 

I heard reports discussing whether this was a “new normal” and whether such violent attacks would become monthly, weekly, or daily.  The consensus seemed to be “weekly”. 

Indeed, I do not know if I’ll be able to finish writing about these recent events before the next death of a Black man or the next attack on a police officer occurs.  I’ll try . . . but there’s no guarantee.

Although I want to say “I hate Micah Johnson”, I can’t.  And although I’d like to blame him for everything and pretend the crime starts and stops with him, I can’t do that either. 

The long racial nightmare of America is too omnipresent to pretend this act didn’t happen within the context of America’s brutal mistreatment of Black people ever since the very beginning of colonial times, continuing on through the Revolution, Civil War, Jim Crow laws, and Segregation. 

Racism and second-class citizenship ruled the land.  The brutality of the slave-owner gave way to the brutality of the KKK and the police.  If ever a shooting had context, this one does. 

And then a long-forgotten name came to my mind: Nat Turner.  He was probably the most hated Black man in the South ever.  Nat had “got religion” and felt a higher calling to free himself and his people.  Against hopeless odds, he led a small slave rebellion.  He and his followers armed themselves the best they could and started killing white people.  Eventually enough white men rallied to arms to stop him and then began the reprisals, the hangings of hundreds. 

It wasn’t pretty what Nat had done: it was brutal and murderous.  It wasn’t pretty what Micah Johnson did, either.  And yet, regarding Nat Turner’s slave rebellion, what of the context of Slavery with Black slaves routinely exploited, oppressed, and brutalized with no hope of escape or emancipation? 

Nat Turner’s act of bloody defiance raised him to heroic heights in the eyes of other slaves and among those who cherish freedom, if one understands that desperate times produce desperate measures; he struck a blow against Slavery and was willing to sacrifice his life in the larger struggle for freedom. 

In a strange way--in this sense of desperation, this sense of needing to strike and deliver a counter blow-- Micah Johnson has something in common with Nat Turner.  Of course, no one is going to say the year 2016 looks anything like the year 1831.  It’s a vastly different time in so many ways, thankfully.  But we would be amiss not to acknowledge that we must also deal with perception. 

For Black people everywhere in the country--and for a growing number of white people, too--the videos showing police officers killing Black people for insufficient cause has shocked and outraged us past the point of comprehension.    

Marches have been held; old groups and new organizations, like Black Lives Matter, do what they can to protest and bring about change; and yet the killings keep on happening.  Nothing stops or slows down such incidents and even if an officer is charged there never seems to be a conviction. 

And then the “breaking point” arrives, ready or not: the point at which a person decides working through normal channels is too slow or of no avail.  Something snaps into place or out of place: it hardly matters.  The lethal intention takes over.    

Something bigger and more dramatic must be invoked—and so the shots rang out in Dallas and Baton Rouge that killed police officers who, in the eyes of many, were “innocent” and only “doing their duty”.  Yes, they were murdered and that is the worst of all crimes.  Such crimes must be condemned by all. 

And that is true and doubly true so far as it goes—especially if we never wish to talk context or discuss the long string of shootings of Black men, most unarmed, that preceded these god-awful events. 

We have a choice: to take into consideration the historical context of these shootings or pretend they are spontaneous crimes unrelated to social reality.  Blame the shooter for being crazy, violent, sick, psychopathic, or what have you—but the context still won’t dissolve away. 

The first way leads to discussion and hope; the second way leads to more shootings and more deaths, both black and white, with more bereaved families, more widows and fatherless children. 

And as for the invisible link between Micah Johnson and Nat Turner?  I’ll leave the reader with these remarks from the author of Nat Turner’s Slave Rebellion:  

“If and when humanism arrives and animalism is driven from the world, Nat Turner will be labeled as one who fought against the latter.  His motives will be admired and sadness, and amazement, perhaps, will grip the observer who will realize that, with those admirable motives, society, as then arranged, made his bloody deeds necessary.”  (emphasis added)

Sometimes I Wish

Sometimes I wish humans could be more like animals.  Sometimes I wish we humans did not have a mind at all.  It seems to me a lot of our troubles would vanish if that were so.  This thought occurred to me last night after the news relayed the shooting of a dozen officers in Dallas, Texas . . . a place already seared into the historical consciousness of many Americans who can never forget the violent assassination of President John F. Kennedy in that city. 

This latest mass shooting followed the deaths of two more black men at the hands of the police, one in the far south and the other in the far north of the country: 

1.      Philando Castile, 32, was with a woman and child when killed in Falcon Heights, a suburb of St. Paul, Minnesota.  The car was stopped for a broken tail-light.

2.      Alton Sterling, 37, was selling movies and music on discs outside of a convenience store in Baton Rouge when the fatal confrontation with police occurred.

These two shootings of unarmed black men extend a growing list of such incidents that have flashed across media screens all across the nation.  It is hard to listen to such stories; they make a person wince with pain and anger, frustration and despair.  Such raw violence against Black people has been going on forever but the advent of cell phone video has changed everything in people’s perception. 

No more the cunning cover-up, the wily whitewash, the ludicrous lies routinely paraded around to “explain away” how the victim caused his own death.  The “blue wall of silence” stood at attention while officers knowing the truth kept quiet, but no more! 

Now people can see with their own eyes how often the police use of force against Black men and women appears to be extraordinarily excessive.  All such claims that the man killed was to blame, was out of control, had a weapon, was “resisting arrest”—all those poor crippled lies are now exposed as the most heinous distortions of truth imaginable! 

Based on these hand-held cell phone videos, the mood in the country is slowly but surely changing.  Instead of blindly believing whatever story the miscreant police officers cook up, people are taking a closer look—they want the truth.   The historical pendulum is moving in a new direction; policemen are even being charged with crimes—although convictions remain as rare as ever. 

The day is not far off when a policeman will be convicted—perhaps then, and only then, will the message be sent to other policemen to stop their secret, subtle, and sinister genocide of young Black men. 

We speak here of the “bad apples” and not all policemen—not those who do their jobs honestly with courageous good judgment.  No, not the good officers but these others, whose prejudices run so deep, they fail to recognize their own hidden hatreds and fears. 

We speak of men in blue whose tempers spark instantaneously out of control, so rapidly that they scarce seem to know themselves what came over them—and yet another man lies died before them. 

If they can’t handle their fears, their prejudices, their hatred, their temper—they need to resign before someone else dies another needless death. 

Across the nation, it feels as though a corner is finally being turned, with each new senseless incident causing a wave of renewed anguish and growing demand for change. 

The acquisition of body cameras for police to wear is part of that movement to see something different happen going forward.  Police departments are working on racial sensitivity and implementing re-training strategies to prevent more such incidents from escalating into a fatal confrontation. 

Television news stations in the Bay Area proudly reported recently that San Francisco police patiently out-waited a man under circumstances that might have otherwise have led to his death—they were praised for their tempered restraint and ultimate success.  It’s a small step in the right direction.   

            Meanwhile, the anger builds: 

·         Protest marches are occurring in the troubled shooting-plagued towns and in other major cities. 

·         In Oakland, demonstrators shut down freeway 880 in both directions for several hours. 

·         There is a growing movement called Black Lives Matter.  The name speaks for itself. 

·         Elected officials are calling for more to be done; police departments are under the microscope. 

·         Media no longer assume the first version of events offered by police will prove truthful.

·         Cell phone video is showing everyone a new reality.

·         Ordinary people are wondering when the violence between police and Black people will end?

Over the last few months, a new foreboding began hanging heavy in the air—how long would it be before someone attacked a police officer?  The events in Dallas last night answered that question: the foreboding period came to an abrupt end.  Four officers were killed outright and eleven wounded by sniper fire—a fifth officer died from his wounds this morning.  

            That’s why I can’t help comparing humans in “civilized society” with animals in their natural world, when night after night these stories keep happening.  I can’t help thinking about how animals behave in their natural state. 

This thought was much in my mind when this latest edition of violent confrontations between white police officers and black men hit the air waves: black men unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Even when they are suspected of breaking the law, the alleged infractions always seem so small: selling music and movies on disc (Alton Sterling) or selling “loose cigarettes” (Eric Gardner, NYC); stolen cigars and jaywalking (Michael Brown); broken tail-light or some other minor traffic infraction (Sandra Bland, Philando Castile); the list goes on--selling what you can to stay alive. 

These types of acts are merely petty street hustles to make a buck, often to support a family.  They are  committed by Black men growing up in impoverished areas where the playing field is not level—indeed, where there is no playing field at all, at least none with a visible sign announcing “American Dream, enter here”. 

There are no magical doorways in these men’s lives through which they can quickly leave behind the long devastating legacy of racism and poverty; there’s no airplane ticket where they could fly to a rich new land overflowing with opportunities for education, for work, for equality, for basic human dignity. 

Most of these unarmed black men were not mixed up in gangs, drugs, violent crimes—they were hustling to make a few extra dollars because in the barrios and ghettoes, a little extra money can make the difference between food and hunger, between light and darkness, between heat and cold. 

I’m not trying to make heroes of them; if any of them were bad apples, then whatever they’ve done is part of the larger story and they need to be held accountable.    

Still, there’s a big difference between being cited for a traffic violation and becoming a fatality.  There’s a big difference between being arrested for a possible misdemeanor criminal offense and ending up dead.  There’s a big difference between “being held accountable” and dying while in police custody.    

The pattern seems abundantly clear:

Black men who are not engaging in anti-social behavior are in just as much danger of being killed by police as those who commit major crimes and violently resist arrest.  In the latter instance, such a confrontation, when it escalates, is understandable. 

That is not the story of these unarmed men being stopped for petty hustling and minor traffic infractions.  Suspected of such, mind you—not yet charged or convicted. 

No policeman has the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner.  That’s not how our system of justice is supposed to work!

Sure, I know it sounds silly for me to say that I wish we humans could be mindless.  It’s just that us humans, we’re so freaking proud of our evolutionary leap to the top of the food chain because of our ability to think.  Pair our mental prowess with the dexterity of our hands and there’s no other animal that comes close to achieving so much: a complex society with a rich history of arts and literature.  But at what cost to our natural instincts for right and wrong? 

I know, too, that in the animal world much violence occurs—there are predators that hunt for a living.  It is their speed, power, and lethal weapons of tooth and claw that provide nourishment for themselves and their young.  Still, it seems as though animals only hunt when they are hungry; they only kill to satisfy this hunger.  What about us humans: when and where and why do we kill? 

Think of all the wars!  In small conflicts, many centuries ago, perhaps only a few men were killed.  It didn’t take long, though, for humans to invent new ways of killing.  In the blink of a historical eye, the ability to kill rose from a few individuals to dozens and then to hundreds--thousands of people killed in a single war became common. 

During the American Civil War, the numbers rose sharply again: tens of thousands of soldiers killed in a single battle.  By the time of the early twentieth century, it’s no longer thousands or even tens of thousands—no, World War I sees millions introduced into the death count. 

With such huge numbers, historians and journalists cannot keep up with any statistical exactitude.  Estimates necessarily creep into the picture—ten million dead from World War I is frequently employed.    

By the time of World War II, tens of millions becomes the new order of numerical magnitude.  The mind boggles and reels at such incomprehensible numbers!  For the Second World War as a whole--counting casualties on both sides, soldiers and civilians alike—the number used is 50 million dead. 

Bombs are dropped from the air that explode with such ferocious intensity that they kill a couple of hundred thousand Japanese people in just two apocalyptic blasts, while another 10-12 million persons die in concentration camps. 

Is it any wonder to imagine if humans were mindless like the animals, far fewer might die?  Choose the most ferocious deadly killer you can think of from the animal kingdom and ask yourself, where do we find any creature that kills to such an extreme? 

The most deadly hunter among the big cats (lions, cheetahs) cannot do it; fast-diving hawks and eagles of the air cannot begin to equal such mass slaughter; sharks of the sea cannot kill on such a vast and senseless scale.  Only “thinking” human beings create such mass carnage!  And, of course, on a far smaller scale, only human beings repeatedly see confrontations between police and Black men that end in needless death and tragedy.  Family bereavement spreads like a plague all across the country.

That’s why as I was turning in my bed last night and laying my weary bones down to rest, a strange thought flitted across the inside of my eyelids before I stumbled off to a drowsy dream world where I could visit a beautiful peaceful land and where I could escape the horrors of these endless violent stories, at least for a little while . . . the last conscious thought I remember mumbling to myself, before sleep overtook me, was wishing people could be more like animals, without mind . . .

Strangely enough, the same exact thought was waiting to greet me when I woke this morning.