By now I’m pretty sure you’ve heard about and/or seen the iPhone “tape” of a young Sista getting cold-cocked in the face by a “Law & Order” White cop. When I first saw the footage myself, it made my blood run cold-because it was a most chilling portent of things to come.
I say that because, on a gut/visceral/perhaps even evolutionary level, Womens’ natural protectors are their Men. This is true no matter where you go on this Earth, no matter how far back you go in the past. The term “raping and pillaging” speaks directly to this truth-once the Menfolk were taken out in some way or another, the Women were left completely vulnerable to the mercy of the “invading” Males. History is replete with such accounts.
For Black Women in America, they cannot always say with any certainty, that their Men can or will be able to protect them in a manner comparable to other American Women. Indeed, of all of America’s various groupings of Men, Black Men have seen more “taking out” by various means, legal and otherwise, from day one in this society.
People can and will see what they want to see in that video-she should not have interfered with the cop, many, White and Black alike, will say. In that I have no idea what went down prior to the iPhone cam rolling, I really don’t have much of a comment, other than to say that it could very well be possible that the Sista was concerned about her *brother* or some other Male of importance to her, being given the business by that cop-my understanding was that he was stopping the guy for, get this now-jaywalking. Sounds strangely reminiscent of Rudy G’s tenure in NYC, his method of crime fighting entailing scholar John Q. Wilson’s “broken window” theory-if you hammer offenders for the small stuff, it makes it harder for them to commit the bigger crimes. Say what you will about the theory or Rudy’s way of going about it, the facts are, that NYC’s overall crime rate went down, substantially. Of course, there were casualties-Amadou Diallo and Sean Bell are two names that instantly come to mind-but the people of the Empire State-White and Black alike-have said, that such “incidents” are small prices to pay for the greater good of having “Law & Order”.
So, I for one am not terribly interested in the “facts”, because I know that the police can find/discover or out and out make them up as they go along, and they almost always win. When it comes to Black folks, I mean. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve seen many episodes of “Cops” where there were out of control White Women, and I can’t ever recall seeing any one of them being cold-cocked the way that Sista was out in Seattle last week.
Which brings me back to why this turn of events makes my blood run cold.
To be a Black Man in America means to live with the constant threat of death. Be it at the hands of Rashid down the block, or be it at the hands of Officer Friendly, or anywhere in between. Every time I step out of my door, I do so with the knowledge that it could be my last time, and that my demise could be over the most trifle of things; that I personally may not even have anything to do with the situation that led to my being taken out. And if-keyword here-my death is investigated, it will be with the vibe of “what did he do?” draped over the whole operation. If what I’ve personally witnessed many times, including the murder of loved ones, by other Black Men or police themselves merely “doing their duty” is any indication, my “investigation”, such as it is, will be perfunctory and brief. And then I’ll be forgotten about. Rare cases where Black Men either have extraordinarily deep pockets, like OJ, or if they’re on a first name basis familiarity with the President of th United States, like Skip Gates aside, this will be the likely outcome of many a Black Man’s lives, out on the streets of America, nor has this been all that different in our nation’s history. To say it is unfair, is to peddle in understatement. But it is life.
And I’m willing to live with it, not only because I must, but also because, I was under the illusion that, if the police couldn’t or just as likely, wouldn’t, protect me, they would at least look out for my three sisters, for my Brown Sugah. I love them all dearly, and would protect them with my own life. But I cannot be around to protect them all the time. And like I said, I’m cool with the police not realy caring about me, regardless of the content of my character. At least they would lookout for them.
For me, that illusion, that dangerous assumption, was shattered into bits when I saw that camera phone video earlier this week.
Students of history will note that these events take place on the 20th anniversary of the Rodney King beating, an incident that, like the Sista’s beardown in Seattle, was caught on Candid Camera-shown on television screens, worldwide. Yet, even the plain as the nose on your face evidence wasn’t enough to have the offending cops, all White, arrested. The Simi Valley verdict exonerating the officers caused the worst riots in Los Angeles since the infamous Watts riots of the 1960s. And, like now with the current situation, many people-White, I have to say-insisted that King brought the beating on himself, and that if he had simply “not resisted” arrest, he would have been alright.
Even keener students of history will note that this week’s events come at a time when, just a little over a decade ago, a young immigrant was gunned down in a wall of gunfire-41 gunshots to be exact-because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, happened to look like a perp a crack squad of NYC’s Finest were looking for, and happened to try to identify himself. Amadou Diallo met a grisly end in front of the door to his own apartment, shot through 41 times.
It doesn’t take an historian or social scientist to see that ours is a vastly changed world, and not always for the better. No one’s going to accuse me of good ole days romanticism, but the simple truth was that a century ago, if you were a Female on a sinking cruise ship, your chances of getting off and living to tell the tale was good, and that was regardless as to whether you were Lady Astor, or Ma Clampett-the chances were high that wealthy and White, Men gave up their chance at life so that you, and any kids present, would have a chance to live. There was a time when, if you were an elderly lady, chances were good that at least one “sonny boy” would help you get across the street safely, or help you carry the groceries in the house. Even at the height of Jim Crow, a Black Woman was reasonably sure that, if she ran afoul of a purse snatcher, somebody-most likely a Brotha-would at the very least make a good faith effort to chase the ne’er do well down.
No one reading this can say, with a straightface, that any of that is true in aggregate, anymore. Keep in mind, the massacre at Virginia Tech was particularly grisly, in part because most of the victims were Female, in this case, White Females. Not too many Men, White Men now, deemed it important to protect them, it seems.
I know, I know-the Sista out in Seattle brought it on herself. How many times have I heard that line, one that only seems to be reserved for those who share my skintone. At least in my lifetime, such taglines and statements were reserved for us Brothas.
Now it seems, it can be applied to Sistas, too.
The Obsidian
