...About the Continual Civil Rights Movement and Justice (or lack thereof)

I had just finished listening to Dr. Matthew Delmont’s talk “From Civil Rights to Black Lives Matter,” when I sat down at the dinner table. It was the same day that the Kentucky grand jury announced their decision to indict only one of the three officers involved in Breonna Taylor’s murder. And it wasn’t even the one who shot her.

The meal started quietly until my mom asked how my talk was. “Quite the day to give that talk,” I started with. I proceeded to explain the premise of Dr. Delmont’s talk: while the Black Lives Matter movement is considered its own entity of the mid-to-late 2010s, and is thought of as the biggest social movement in America, it ultimately grew out of and is a continuation of the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. A history professor at Dartmouth, Dr. Delmont talked about how history is an invaluable guiding tool for moving forward, and when it comes to race, American cannot talk about it or move forward with it without understanding the history of it. And the reality is, as Dr. Delmont would discuss, the understanding of race’s history in America does not teach Black history in a meaningful and complicated way necessary to understand the complicated and radical histories that were not largely supported by the majority of Americans. Instead, the history of race is taught in a glorified and over-simplified way. Take MLK for example. Dr. Delmont offers a civil rights course at Dartmouth, a class in which students claim their high school curriculums taught them everything about MLK’s narrative and role in the Civil Rights movement. But those curriculums, Dr. Delmont offered, focused on the well-known and comfortable parts of MLK; they centered him as the man who gave the “I Have a Dream” speech, and the man who advocated for Civil Rights through peaceful practices. And those same curriculums were the ones that somehow suggested MLK’s work was done and civil liberties were given to black people when he died. But that was bad history, and far from true. Yes, the 1950s and 1960s were labeled the years of the Civil Rights Movement, but just because those years passed and MLK died did not mean that the fight for black peoples’ basic human rights ended too.

And the Black Lives Matter movement was direct evidence of that: sixty years since the Civil Rights Movement, people continue to fight for the same liberties today as they did back then; the Justice System did not and does not give justice to black people. And Breonna Taylor’s death and decision of the Kentucky Grand Jury was direct proof of that. An innocent black woman was killed by a cop, and when people demanded justice for her life, the decision of the jury made it seem like she didn’t even die. The life of an innocent black woman was taken, and no one was punished for it. Dr. Delmont quoted MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech from 1963: “We can never be satisfied as long as Black Americans are the victims of unspeakable horrors of police brutality.” That might as well could’ve been said today.

“Well, I don’t know a lot about the specifics of Breonna Taylor’s shooting, but it sounds like the cop was acting in self-defense. The boyfriend was the one who shot first,” a parent chimed in.

I tried to explain how different factors contribute to the likelihood a police officer uses a weapon as a method of defense, independent of the actual level of danger they were in: a neighborhood of low socioeconomic status; the demographic of the community; the color of an individual person’s skin. Such factors can trigger internal fear and safety alarms, which are products of prejudice learned consciously/subconsciously from positions of privilege, that make someone more susceptible using a weapon as a form of defense when it may not even be needed. The message wasn’t sticking.

“They were confronted by her boyfriend at the door who had a gun in his hand. How can those cops be expected to not act in self-defense when they themselves are being threatened?”

I wasn’t sure how to approach this one in the moment. I was frustrated my parents didn’t agree that race influences the way a cop handles or responds to a situation in dangerous and potentially life threatening ways. I lost sight of the fact that an innocent black woman’s life was taken in response to a drug raid that she was not involved in.

“What would you have done differently, Lil, if you were in that situation?”

Still caught up, I didn’t know. Sure, any cop technically has the right to use a weapon in self-defense, but how could they not see factors like the color of Kenneth Walker’s skin or the condition of his apartment building would increase the likelihood that a cop shoots? I finished my plate and cleared the table. I needed to regroup.

I proceeded to read article after article about the Breonna Taylor’s murder and the Grand Jury’s decision. Dr. Delmont had just talked about the value of facts, and the importance of engaging in arguments and discussions rooted in evidence. I had lost sight of the evidence at hand, and needed to reground myself in it.

Who the fuck allowed a no-knock warrant to exist in the first place? And even though the cops report that they announced themselves at the door, how come every neighbor except for one cannot testify to that announcement? And for the one neighbor that did testify they heard the cops state their presence, are you really going to discount the fact that English wasn’t his first language and he only testified to that after being asked the same question multiple times? And what about the fact they weren’t in uniform? And do you really believe Mr. Walker would have shot first if he knew the people breaking into his apartment were police? And if the cops were ultimately interested in arresting Mr. Walker for drug dealing, how was Breonna Taylor, who was asleep in bed, the one who died?

How would this have gone down in a white neighborhood with a white person of interest? Would the no-knock warrant have been used? Would the cops have been in uniform instead of civilian clothes? Would a white person of interest felt compelled to shoot, knowing who they were meeting at the door? If it had escalated to open fire, would anyone but the person of interest have been shot?

A few hours had passed when I figured out what I would’ve done differently, or at least, figured out how to put words to what I would’ve done differently. I stopped in the doorway as I walked through the living room on my way upstairs to bed. My parents may have been done with the conversation, but I knew it was important to me to continue to engage in these conversations, to push and educate myself and those around me. I began by restating some of the facts: the no-knock warrant, the civilian clothes, the neighbors testimonies, the death of an innocent black woman sleeping in bed.

“If it was self-defense, I would’ve shot the person who was threatening me. And if somehow I didn’t, and ended up killing an uninvolved civilian who was asleep, I would have the Court’s decision acknowledge their death and reprimand me for it.”