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Thursday, July 6, 2017
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
OPINION
T
here is a scene in the
biopic
“Malcolm
X”
directed by Spike Lee that
has always stuck with me in one of
the most chilling and devastating
ways possible. As Malcolm Little,
soon to take the last name X, is
beginning to adopt the teachings
of Elijah Muhammad and the
Nation of Islam, he is prompted
by one of his mentors to define the
words “white” and “black” using
Webster’s dictionary. He reads
aloud that white is defined as, “the
color of new snow; the opposite of
black; free from spot or blemish
such as moral impurity; innocent,
without evil intent; and harmless.”
Like Malcolm X, portrayed by
Denzel Washington, I was shaken
and disturbed by this discovery.
Does that inadvertently imply that
those who are white, technically …
by definition, are pure, innocent
and honest? While those who are
Black are hostile and wicked?
The scene I described previously
in the “Malcolm X” movie ends
with his realization about the
dictionary, as he asks his mentor,
“this is written by white folks,
right?”
There is another definition I
would like to share, it is for the
word “numb.” It is defined as,
“unable to think, feel, or react
normally because of something
that shocks or upsets you.” I am
stating this definition because
I want there to be absolutely
no mistaking the way I felt
after learning that the police
officer who murdered Philando
Castile was found not guilty
of
manslaughter
charges.
I
am numb to the fact that an
innocent man was mercilessly
killed in front of his girlfriend
and child for reaching into his
pocket. Additionally, I am truly
disheartened because of the fact
that I expected this. I expected
his murderer to walk free. I
expected the Castile family to
unsuccessfully seek justice and
find peace. I expected a group
of our peers, fellow American
citizens, who served as jurors to
justify an innocent Black man
being slain at the hands of the
police — those meant to protect
and serve. Can you imagine
that? Being so accustomed to
disadvantage that you can no
longer picture a life without
it?
Knowing
that
injustice,
discrimination
and
violence
against the community in which
you belong is so frequent that
you can only be left with the
assumption that it should happen?
Can you imagine knowing that
essentially you can be killed
because of a definition? Because
let’s face the facts, the police
officer who murdered Philando
Castile assessed his response to
what he considered a dangerous
situation based on the realization
that Castile was Black. And that
must have meant he was foul and
hostile, right? Can you imagine
knowing deep in your heart that
this is bound to happen again?
I must confess it has been a
struggle to write this piece. At
first I was scared that it would
be disregarded as yet another
reaction. Or that I would present
myself as yet another disgruntled
Black person. I feared that my
words would be drowned out
by activists that roar cries of
justice and change or maybe by
those who view this ruling as
the correct decision. I thought,
who am I to speak about this?
What difference do my words
make in the grand scheme of
things? I succumbed to the
intense pressure of attempting
to
differentiate
myself
from
the rest. How could I make
this honest, raw and genuine?
How could I make it something
that would stick with readers?
Intimidated by all of these
questions and my own fear, I
figured — I’ll just leave it alone,
I will think of another topic to
write about.
But
then
I
thought,
was
Bill Maher scared when on
national television he used the
n-word in a tasteless joke? Was
the assailant who vandalized
LeBron James’s home by spray
painting the n-word on his
front gate scared? Is our own
president
scared
anytime
he
tweets
something
rude,
inflammatory
or
outlandish?
The answer is no. Each of these
individuals have said what they
want
and
more
importantly
what they mean. None of them
were scared, because they are
under the impression that their
words matter. That they can,
and should, speak openly and
freely. An impression which I
too should have. So here is what
I have to say…
Philando Castile was a father,
son and friend. He was murdered
for being Black. Our justice
system has validated that this
is not wrong, just as they have
before in the past. The worst part
about it is, these sorts of tragedies
more than likely will continue
in the future until systemic
oppression is eliminated and
lasting change will occur.
Until then, can you imagine
having to wait for such drastic
transformation,
including
not
only
redesigning
the
infrastructure of the branches of
our government, but additionally
eradicating
bias,
prejudice,
oppressive behavior and racist
ideals
from
generations
of
people? You are left to live with
a target on your back because of
the color of your skin. You must
NISA KHAN
EDITOR IN CHIEF
SARAH KHAN
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR
DAYTON HARE
MANAGING EDITOR
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at
the University of Michigan since 1890.
Imagine
instill the notion within your
children that because of who they
are, they must always have an
acute awareness of themselves to
their surroundings … That they
must recognize their difference
and the subsequent notions it
causes regarding their “place”
in society. Can you imagine
that? Or knowing that you are
Black and can be killed for the
mere perceptions that many hold
which label you as dangerous?
Aggressive? Foul and hostile?
Can you imagine another mother
losing her son to bullets from
a gun meant to defend us? Can
you imagine another daughter
witnessing their father die in
front of their very eyes?
Can you imagine?
I can.
—Stephanie Mullings can be
reached at srmulli@umich.edu.
STEPHANIE MULLINGS| COLUMN
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Summer Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
“
You shot four bullets into
him, sir,” were the words
Lavish Reynolds, uttered over
Facebook livestream after Officer
Jeronimo Yanez shot Philando
Castile on July 6, 2016. Both
the livestream and the recently
uncovered dash cam video are
very disturbing, but they are also
enlightening and representative of
the African-American experience
with
law
enforcement.
This
is
particularly
evident
when
observing
(1)
the
language
Castile and Reynolds used when
addressing Yanez and (2) the
Reynolds’ instinct to livestream
the incident.
The dash cam video shows us
the automatic fear that the police
put into Castile. He is so worried
about something going wrong that
he feels the need to calmly inform
Yanez, “Sir, I have to tell you that I
do have a firearm on me.”
Countless encounters of when
police are surprised by someone’s
firearm, legal or not, have resulted
in the worst. Castile tells Yanez he
has a firearm to make sure Yanez
knows he isn’t up to anything
nefarious. Who would warn an
officer about his firearm before
using it?
Many cite that the victims
of police brutality ask for it by
being disrespectful to the officer,
however this incident goes to
show that many times it doesn’t
matter how respectful you are —
sometimes “sir” doesn’t cut it.
Even after watching Yanez kill
her boyfriend, Reynolds still has
the will to address the officer as
“sir,” saying, “You shot four bullets
into him, sir.” The fear of also
being shot and blamed for being
disrespectful continues after an
officer has killed an innocent man.
The officer deserves no “sir” at
this point, but Reynolds finds it
imperative to her own safety.
This language helps show the
lengths that African-Americans
have to go to stay safe in the face of
law enforcement. Carefully placed
“sirs” and deliberate warnings
are representative of the fear that
police produce.
Not only do encounters with the
police spark fear, but they are also
a call to action. This is to say that
when Yanez shot Castile, Reynolds
fought through the grief of the
incident and had the instinct to
document the injustice. She knew
the fight against police brutality
would be furthered by showing
what had just happened, so she
livestreamed almost immediately
after
shots
had
been
fired.
Personally, I would have never
had the thought to livestream
after my significant other had
been shot, but it just goes to show
how even through the worst,
African-Americans have to fight
for improved conditions.
The livestream shows how
documenting a greater injustice is
of a higher priority than personal
emotion. This is a priority that
many of us will never have to deal
with.
Despite the unjust treatment
uncovered by this case, many
people blame Castile for his death
by saying he should’ve stopped
reaching. We live in a world where
we punish people of different skin
tone for existing, then blame them
for acting innocently. I don’t doubt
that Yanez was a good person and
not outwardly racist, but it is okay
to blame law enforcement. Yanez
murdered an innocent man. If
we don’t punish cops for acting
inappropriately, things will never
change.
—Brennan Pope can be
reached at popeb@umich.edu.
What I learned from Philando Castile
BRENNAN POPE| COLUMN