America must address double standards, starting with policing

The killing of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer appalled the nation. But it’s safe to say that his violent death did not affect everyone the same way. Many white Americans, who grew up being taught that police serve and protect, saw a horrifying betrayal of public trust by Officer Derek Chauvin. Many black Americans were less shocked. They saw a too-familiar hazard: a white cop, no fear of retribution, exploiting his power by victimizing a black man.

That disparity is tragic. It embodies the curse of racial discrimination and the affliction of white privilege — how only some Americans can risk presuming that their interactions with police will be lawful and respectful. Black Americans know from experience they often must be wary. “As a black man, I pray every day for the health and safety of my wife and children, especially during interactions with law enforcement,” Kevin Warren, commissioner of the Big Ten Conference, wrote in an open letter after Floyd’s death, as cities were rocked by protests and looting.

The lawlessness thankfully appears to be subsiding. Chauvin, charged with seconddegree murder, is in custody along with three other officers accused of aiding and abetting. All have been fired. The name George Floyd will be remembered, as will his death, captured on video. “Please, please, please, I can’t breathe,” he begged of Chauvin, who hovered above, his knee pressed on Floyd’s neck for nearly nine minutes.

What happens next? Swift action by Minnesota prosecutors, along with national outrage and peaceful demonstrations, create momentum for the possibility of real change in American society. The pain of systemic police abuse in minority communities has been laid bare anew for all to witness. “Seeing an officer kill another black man is like watching my own funeral. Or my brother’s. Or my father’s,” our Chicago Tribune newsroom colleague Javonte Anderson wrote. “It’s why my hands trembled on the steering wheel the last time a white police officer pulled me over. For him, it was a routine traffic stop. For me, it was life or death.”

Police departments face renewed scrutiny for their double standards in approaching white and black suspects. Elected and police officials are being pushed to repudiate the knee-choke death of Floyd; some are embracing the chance to speak. The police chief in St. Paul, Minn., told his force that anyone who thinks Chauvin’s actions constituted an acceptable use of force should resign. Chicago Police Department Superintendent David Brown said Floyd’s death sickened and embarrassed him. He ordered his officers to watch the video. “We stand with Mr. Floyd’s family.”

None of that guarantees policing will successfully reform itself to end abuse when officers interact with minorities. Officers, no matter their own race, are confronted more than other professions with the effects of poverty, violence, gang activity — grief. Low-income neighborhoods don’t deliver the job opportunities, the educational experiences, the day-to-day comforts that wealthier communities can. And so officers need to be trained, consistently, to bring clear eyes and fairness to their encounters with the public. Every encounter in every neighborhood. That’s not just us claiming there is a problem. Majorities of both black and white Americans say black people are treated less fairly than whites in dealing with the police and the criminal justice system, according to Pew Research Center survey findings.

There are two potential paths forward. The first is to accept that police culture of aggression toward minorities, as a reflection of society, will change slowly if at all. Racism will not relent its grip easily. The fury over George Floyd’s death will abate, then rekindle after the next policing incident. Rioting in the aftermath of Rodney King’s beating in Los Angeles gave rise to soulsearching, guided by King’s plea: “Can we all get along?” That was in 1992. Many names since have been added to the roll call of black men and women abused by police, even during the era of the first black president. So it will go. Do what you can, but be realistic.

The better path is to fuel resolve with optimism. Values change through generations that have preached acceptance and rejected the tenets of discrimination. Samesex marriage became legal. Illinois and other states have formally abolished the death penalty, which disproportionately targeted black offenders. Legalizing recreational marijuana has become a path to even out unfair punishments that hit black suspects harder. Peaceful but forceful marches for George Floyd, while some were marred by violence, have broad support built on years of both progress and heartache. Martin Luther King Jr. believed that “the arc of the moral universe is long but bends toward justice.” Can this be a moment when America bends in the right direction?

To make America a better place requires every bit of energy the country can muster: intolerance of discrimination and bias, commitments to teach and listen in order to break down barriers, a focus on economic opportunity and education in African American neighborhoods to address inequality. It’s a long list.

Let’s start with policing reforms because George Floyd’s killing is what brought us to this point. In Chicago, the Police Department has had an ugly record of misusing force. The faster CPD changes its practices to eradicate biases, the safer the city will become. The consent decree overseen by that federal judge will help, but this is on everyone.

Part of the legacy of Minneapolis is understanding that many black Americans watched the video and saw something not just terrible but recognizable: their own daily fears realized. That abiding unfairness must end.