Would Austin police call a cab for young, black trespassing suspect?
As the parent of an adult son and daughter, whenever a mother’s child is killed, regardless of their age, I am saddened. I check in with mine — to hear their voices, tell them that I love them, make sure that they are OK and remind them to be “careful out there.”
There is no way for me to feel the powerful emotions that parents, family and friends experience when they’re told that a loved one has been killed.
The past few weeks have been extremely difficult for me because of the number of individuals killed in violence. One week began with the execution of Alton Sterling in Baton Rouge and Philando Castile’s slaying in Minnesota. Then five peace officers were executed in Dallas, 84 people killed in France and three officers in Baton Rouge. I am numb at this total disregard for human life.
I attend conversations and prayer services to seek answers and hope that people are willing to put aside the hate speech and seek the humanity in individuals who are “different” than they are. Change starts with conversations or prayer — and it evolves to a commitment to get to know other individuals who have life experiences and perspectives that are different. Change happens when all voices are heard, respected and valued.
I realize that in addition to my perspective as a mother, I have other perspectives that inform my feelings and thoughts. I have lived in Austin for more than 60 years, went to segregated schools and knew the black peace officers on the force because they lived in our community — and they were role models who demonstrated respect for self, others and the neighborhood. I have the perspective of a person of faith, living out my beliefs in a denomination that is mostly white — and yet the Episcopal Church has acknowledged very publicly the “sin of racism” that infects the faithful. And I also have the perspective of the person elected to represent the people of District 1 to craft health and safety policies that “we the people” must live by — policies that must be administered fairly, without bias.
I want to share a nonviolent example of a situation at my home that appeared to have been handled with bias: In the wee hours of the morning, a young, white student was seen trying to climb over my neighbor’s fence. He then tried to climb over my gate and ended up asleep on my front porch. Police responded, woke him up, called a cab and sent him on his way. He was publicly intoxicated and trespassing. I want you to think about what would have happened to my son — who is black, bald, physically fit and earned several degrees — if he had attempted to climb over two fences and was found sleeping on someone’s porch in another part of Austin. If he was fortunate enough to have not been shot by a property owner, he would have been placed in a patrol car and taken to jail. I followed up with the police, and the department justified the handling of the incident. Was there bias? Can you see it?
What can we do to make Austin a safe place for all live, especially those marginalized by society? A suggestion is to acknowledge that Austin is geographically and economically segregated — and to resist stereotyping and making assumptions about “others.” A suggestion is to re-engage in East Austin. Individuals with limited education, limited income and my young people need role models and mentors who reflect their faces — entrepreneurs, professionals, congregations and organizations — to show up, shore up and be examples of what is possible.