A Reflection on Police Brutality

By Ashley Logan on April 3, 2018

Systematic oppression and police brutality are no stranger to the United States of America. The disproportionate ideals of America’s racial hierarchy leak into many of the positions of power meant to protect everyone. The justice system is flawed like much of the U.S. government. Just the other day a young man named Stephon Clark was shot 20 times and killed by policemen in his own backyard.

When I mention oppression, in this instance I’m discussing the pressures of being a black person in the United States and the trauma that fills the rest of us who bear witness. The other day the officer who killed Alton Sterling in 2016 was relieved of his duties, but not acquitted for his actions. This happens in most cases where black people, mostly men, are killed without reasoning. When I first really began paying attention to the news around age 16, each death I heard of was like a personal loss and forced me to grieve. Over and over again another person was killed, without receiving justice for their lives.

I thought to jot down different reflections from when I first heard of Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner’s deaths in an effort to emulate my thoughts and feelings on the matter.

(via Wikimedia Commons)

Tamir Rice (2002-2014)

I think that I’m lucky to be alive, I mean Tamir Rice was only 12 years old when he was murdered by the police and I just turned 21. He had these big brown eyes and I swear you could see the Sun’s reflection in his smile. Tamir’s image is burned into my head like the images I’ve seen of all my fallen angels, gone too soon because of racial injustice. Every time I close my eyes I remember their stories.

Tamir reminds me of my younger cousin Lucas, who is so full of life and I think about how this could have been him. I think about Tamir’s family and how great of a loss they suffered. It feels as if the black body is reduced to just that, a body. The humanity behind the complexion is often lost due to generations of passed down ideologies. I cry when I think about Tamir and all of the young black kids who will grow up among the same nonsense we’ve grown accustomed to.

Trayvon Martin (1995-2012)

The death of Trayvon Martin was gruesome for me, it was the first time I’d seen this type of racial injustice unfold right before my own eyes. It’s sinister the way that some media organizations will portray those lives lost due to police brutality, “He was a thug.” It baffles me the way that this man felt like he had the power to decide whether or not this person would live.

I felt vulnerable in the United States once I realized the truths of America’s flaws. I wasn’t ignorant of racism and the struggles black people have gone through, but the blatant murder of a teenager just walking home from the store really opened my eyes. The death of Trayvon resulted in the creation of the Black Lives Matter Movement, the modern day civil rights movement. Started by three black women, BLM reaches out to all of those willing to help out with the fight to end systemic oppression.

Sandra Bland (1987-2015)

Black Lives Matter existed but the killings kept happening, one after another the police attempt to silence the black community. I guess they still don’t think that we matter. Naturally, I slipped into a deep depression when Sandra died. Just a year older than my sister, the sting was severe when I heard the news. Why is it that we as black women aren’t allowed to be vocal on pressing issues without being considered as “angry”?

Sandra had a series of YouTube videos called “Sandy Speaks” where she was very vocal about educating black youth on the legal system. She did work to help her community and was ultimately hanged in her jail cell. This isn’t anything new, Martin Luther King Jr. was eliminated too, crossed out for being a revolutionary just like Malcolm.

“AT FIRST THEY USED A NOOSE. NOW, ALL THEY DO IS SHOOT.” 

–Sandra Bland

Eric Garner (1970-2014)

Eric Garner could have been my dad. Choked to death by an NYC police officer, even though he said, “I can’t breathe.” My friend wore a shirt that said “I Can’t Breathe” in memory of Eric Garner’s last words. She was made fun of for mourning the loss of another black man, to which those who drove by shouted “Police Lives Matter!”

I wonder where the humanity lies within them and within the facilitators of oppression. I look at Donald Trump and wonder where the compassion for human life is, I can’t seem to find it.

Michael Brown (1996-2014)

Michael Brown was my age exactly when he was murdered in Ferguson, Missouri. The death of this young black man angered many, resulting in a time of unrest. It seems as if whenever we shout, we’re not heard. This conversation feels like speaking to an empty void.

When I pray, I ask the angels what heaven’s like and if it was worth the trip. I search every day for an answer to the burning enigma America loves to sweep under its red, white, and blue rug. This country is rooted in racism, slavery, and genocide but claims to be the “greatest,” I’m not sure if these words even belong in the same sentence.

There are many reflections that I could make, but these people have made the biggest impact on my psyche due to their untimely deaths.

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