The Register Citizen (Torrington, CT)
Our silence is the enemy
George Floyd’s death reminds us we must ask why this keeps happening
There is anger in our country. There is disgust. There is sorrow. Yet three days later, my overwhelming feeling remains disbelief. How does this keep happening? Are we animals?
Cellphone videos show Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin calmly placing the full weight of his knee on George Floyd’s neck for several minutes. Floyd, who made the mistake of purposely or unwittingly passing a fake $20 bill in a deli, is begging for his life. He is on the ground. He is handcuffed. He isn’t resisting. Two of the other three cops are making sure Floyd doesn’t move. He is going nowhere except to meet his maker. Onlookers call for Chauvin to get off him. Floyd is moaning and begging. Chauvin, hand in pocket, sunglasses on forehead, remains expressionless.
It is the cold expression of an executioner.
Chauvin, already fired from his job along with the others, was taken into custody on Friday and charged with third-degree murder and manslaughter. There could be subsequent charges. Any implication that Floyd’s death was accidental rings hollow today though, doesn’t it? As sure as God blesses America, America knows a killer when it sees one.
“No rational human being would ever do that to another person,” UConn’s Hall of Fame coach Geno Auriemma said.
“There were three officers holding him, he was subdued,” Southern Connecticut coach and former NBA player Scott Burrell said. “You should never be on someone’s neck like that. He’s saying he can’t breathe. Putting all your weight on someone’s neck? At some point, you have to have mindset he is another human being.”
Burrell is quick to point out he has not had an experience like James Blake, the tennis star from Fairfield, who once was blindsided and thrown to the ground by a New York cop in a case of mistaken identity. But, yeah, Burrell has had people step to the other side of the street when they saw a 6-foot-7 African American approaching.
“Yeah, of course,” Burrell said. “Right before we played golf with President Obama in D.C. four, five years ago, Ray Allen wrote on his Facebook page how some guy crossed the street on him and me.”
Think about that scenario.
Scott’s dad, Sam, played football and baseball at Southern Connecticut in the 1950s. On Friday, he remembered one trip down South.
“Black people couldn’t eat at the restaurant we went to,” Sam said. “I was the only black person on the team. We went outside. John Carusone went with me to another restaurant.”
That’s right, they wouldn’t serve Mr. Burrell, who later coached at Yale and has a résumé of community involvement that runs into next week.
So there has been progress. George Floyd, 46, would have gotten served a meal before Chauvin killed him.
The other day LeBron James shared two images on Instagram. Over Chauvin burying his knee in Floyd’s neck was the word “This ...” Over Colin Kaepernick taking a knee during the national anthem was written “… Is Why.”
Four years ago, I was lukewarm toward Kaepernick. High-profile athletes and coaches have an important role in our society. Like it or not, they hold sway with millions. It is a good thing for them — black and white — to speak up when they see wrongs. More than a good thing, it is a moral calling.
My concern with Kaepernick initially was much less about the knee he took than his initial words were not clearly defined and contained a wide swath of American history none of us could rewrite. His Castro shirt and pig socks were distractions. At that point, James and some others during that 2016 Olympic year were making what I saw as more tangible progress with police. Kaepernick put his money where his mouth was, and his message also became more focused.
He also didn’t kill anyone with his knee. Four years later, while I still cannot walk in his shoes, I certainly can honor his anger. When people are convinced no one is listening they will take to the streets and vent their anger. We are at a vulnerable time in our country. A pandemic, economic problems, unemployment, fear everywhere, a president who tweets “When the looting starts, the shooting starts.” It’s frightening.
The police aren’t the bad guys. Black people aren’t the bad guys. Bad guys are the bad guys.
“Do you know if you criticize a police officer for doing what we saw happen, then you are antipolice?” Auriemma said. “What people don’t understand is I guarantee you 99% of the policemen in America probably feel the same way you do with what just happened. It’s OK to stand up and say this is wrong.
“But why does it keep happening the same way? Why do these acts continually repeat themselves? That saying, ‘Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence. Three times, four times, it’s a pattern now, isn’t it?’ ”
We must change that pattern. And our silence is the enemy.
“There are amazing policemen and policewomen who are salt of the earth, the backbone of law enforcement, that their ranks are being infiltrated in some way by people who have no business being there,” Auriemma said. “Someone who has taken an oath to uphold and represent all the great things that our law enforcement community stands for would never do something like that. So how are these people getting in?
“What allows them to become part of what I grew up thinking is most basic and fundamental of American society? People who enforce the laws and do an impossible job in today’s day and age. People put their lives at risk every day, every time they get out of bed.”
The cop who blindsided the Harvard-educated Blake lost five vacation days. That’s it. Yet when we last talked in 2018, Blake was pushing hardest for a difference in how police are trained and ways for more nuanced psychological profiles. Even after his ordeal, Blake said only a small percentage of cops do their job the wrong way.
It’s one of those jobs that can afford no percent. It’s a matter of life and death.
Auriemma talks about friends back in Norristown, Pennsylvania: one’s brother was chief of police, his best friend’s son is a Philly cop, another he played softball with. They come back with stories with what happens every single day. How they’re treated by the public.
“I can’t imagine myself in their situations pulling your car over and have no idea whatsoever what you’re getting yourself into,” Auriemma said. “That’s your life every minute of every day. Your wife and kids are sitting at home with their fingers crossed hoping you’ll be back. I also can’t begin to imagine what we would do without them. But something fundamentally wrong and maybe — this is the scary part — this has been going on for a long time. And it’s just never come to light as often as it has in today’s world.
“What just happened is just horrific. That’s no different in a lot of ways than when we were growing up and read about what happened in the massacre at My Lai. An American soldier would do that? You took a vow. You took an oath. You’re supposed to protect people from that stuff.
“That doesn’t mean good people with the best intentions don’t snap or go off the deep end. You see it happens all the time. But to then say, it’s part of the job — no. There’s something going on here that needs to be looked at deeper. I don’t think it’s as simple as sometimes you want to make it. There are so many layers to this. Why the hell is this happening? Why is it happening everywhere in our country?”
Racism? Sadism? Power and ego? Steroid use? Stress? Lack of understanding because of the disproportionate racial makeup of police in some areas? Fear? That knee tactic Chauvin employed is forbidden by many police departments, and is to be used only when facing real resistance in Minneapolis. Did Floyd look like he was putting up a fight?
On the other hand, what can African American community leaders do to help bridge the gap? Or is this going to go on forever?
“With each one of these incidents, you go ‘Surely these officers have been trained better than that,’ ” Auriemma said. “Each policeman has the ability to apprehend you, disarm the situation and arrest you in a way that you don’t die during the arrest. Otherwise, why even get out of the car?”
“Yes, I feel anger,” Burrell said, “but most of all I feel sadness that this keeps happening. I just hope real justice is served.”