On Justice Jamar and Jenga, Part 2

I went down to the 4th Precinct Thursday night to see what I could see and learn. It was hard to go. As much as I wanted to be there, as much as I'd felt the pull, I had a sense of apprehension. The volatility, the images, the anger was all too familiar and reminiscent of what I had been through during the Rodney King verdict riots. I was not in L.A., I was in Atlanta at Morehouse College where police cordoned of the campuses of the HBCUs in the Atlanta University Center (AUC) as a "precautionary" measure (apparently that many brown people in one place caused anxiety), shot us with tear gas (even into dorms where people were simply watching) and assaulted us. They worked the group into a frenzy and then pulled back a half mile to let the rage explode, increasing the destruction and impact to "justify" their actions. Like this one, it was a mix of college students and residents from the surrounding impacted community, justifiably angry at the lack of equity and accountability within our country. The difference here being the additional element of individuals who are not affiliated with any organization or movement and who just want anarchy and chaos. I saw a number of these individuals on Thursday night.

The point I want to draw here is that having been in the middle of riots and dealt with police, agitators and simply frustrated people, it is not something I walk back into lightly. It resurfaces the experiences of violence, trauma and frustration that threatens to overwhelm. But, my heart aches for my community. It aches for those of us of color who daily must live within a system that continues to marginalize and oppress, with scant outlet for expression and justice. It aches for my community torn asunder by this system, this incident and the apathy that turns a blind eye, dismissing legitimate concerns. It aches for those who strive to uphold the law, caught in an impossible situation where mob mentality on both sides have swept them up in a tidal wave of turmoil, making it that much harder to do the job they love, to protect and serve. And it aches for the three people at the center of this and their families, because once you move past the rhetoric and accusations, once you move past the anger and rage, once you move past the soundbites, a young man lost his life and the two officers have to live with the consequences and the responsibility of that no matter what actually transpired.

When I visited the precinct, I was surprised by a number of things, some good and some not as much. I parked a block west of the intersection of Penn and Plymouth and walked down towards the demonstration. As I approached, I could hear Bob Marley's "One Love" playing as people huddled around fire pits or danced in large groups. From a distance, it could have simply been a block party, celebrating the coming of winter and neighborhood togetherness. I walked around to get a sense of things. To the west of the entrance in front, were tents set up with food, water and supplies. I asked a young lady standing next to a table if this was BLM, and she didn't know, nor was she sure where they were. She had only been there a few hours with a friend and she was just helping give out water. Not wanting to press, I moved on. Outside of the entrance stood 6 officers, half in tactical gear. Metal barricades extended to the edge of the walkway and Deputy Chief of Staff Medaria Arradondo was leaning over them talking to what looked to be reporters. As I walked out into the street, the music was then interrupted by one of the people getting on the microphone and giving an impassioned account of the reason for them to be there. She spoke from her heart regarding the importance of the moment and the value of each and every one. I ran into James Everett as I do at every rally or demonstration. He has a heart for community and I love his conviction and commitment. We talked for a minute before he had to head off. I talked with a couple of other people I knew before moving further down the block towards the east side of the precinct. For the most part, it was casual and laid back in the center as people huddled together for warmth and commiseration.

As I walked eastward, I glanced over and noticed a young man had climbed up on the wall on the east side of the entrance, behind the sleeping tents that had been set up, and had begun tagging the building. I thought to myself, "that's really not a good idea." Sure enough, about 15 minutes later, after he had moved on from curse words to spraying over the security camera lens. A ladder went up from inside the walls and officers came up with a rubber bullet gun. As they climbed up and slowly got into position and took aim, a number of people shouted at the man to get down, that he was going to be shot, but he kept tagging and a few minutes later he was down. All of the protesters ran to the wall shouting, "hands up, don't shoot" along with a string of expletives. The officers climbed back down and the next twenty minutes were filled with chants, cursing, yelling about abuse of power from the protesters. When the officers came out to clean off the lens, they formed a human wall and stood there while protesters jumped in their faces, calling them names and insulting them, yelling at them, and to their credit, the officers finished what they needed to do and went back inside. In at least this incident, their actions were measured and minimal and not without causation.

I suggested to one of the organizers that they warn the protesters not to engage in activities like that that would lead to further confrontation and he did. Standing up for what's right does not give free license to do what's wrong. In that same vein, as I continued to watch the activities, twice after that I saw officers come up over the wall on ladders, once with a hydraulic one and another just a regular climbing one, but with a ski mask on. As a general tip, if you're a member of a group that people think are betraying the public trust, and you're being protested against for at least in part a lack of transparency, showing up anywhere wearing items that conceal your identity might not be the best course of action...just sayin'. Another officer at the front of entrance was muttering things under his breath and giving that kind of dismissive laugh you give when something annoys you to the twenty-something, blonde, college student who was taunting them (yelling if they felt big and powerful). Not the worst he could have done, but also unnecessary and unproductive for the night.

I wandered back over to the entrance of the precinct and was standing on the side of the building when one of the officers called out to me, "You didn't come out to Open Streets this year." It took me a minute to realize what he was talking about. I'm part of a group (Minnesota Superheroes United) the dresses up like superheroes (cosplay) for public and charity events to visit with kids, make them smile and let them meet their heroes. Last year, at the Lowry Open Streets we met up with this officer and a couple of others, and took pictures together for the kids. It was a stark contrast to the situation we were in, but it brought home the fact that not everyone in this situation was bad, or wanted to be here. We exchanged a few more words, which was enough to draw the attention of some of the protesters. A guy who appeared high and had been "reassuring" the officers that they were mad at the system and not them and not to take it personally, edged over to the wall by the officer I was speaking to and one in a Guy Fawkes mask came and stood by me, while a woman snapped my picture. I laughed and asked her if it was me or the other guy she was photographing, but she denied doing it. So I wandered back to the street for 30 seconds, and when I returned, all three had mysteriously moved away. I left then, wishing the officers and the protesters good luck, and drove back home to process all that I had witnessed.

It's a lot to take in and a very complicated and complex situation.

~End Part 2~

On Justice, Jamar and Jenga, Part 1
On Justice, Jamar and Jenga, Part 3