When I think of the two cases of Renisha McBride and Jonathan Ferrell, two young Black people who were shot and killed after getting into car accidents and seeking help, I have all of the feelings. I feel a lot of heartbreak for their loved ones. And I feel fearful. For myself and other Black folks, about what could happen to us if we are ever in distress. If we can’t trust human decency and the basic social fabric that we are supposedly entitled to as human beings, and if we are shot instead of saved by those entrusted to protect our lives, I’m left with questions about what to do when Black and in need of help. And, I keep on coming back to privilege, and the absolutely, completely, totally devastating reality that we, as Black people, aren’t even guaranteed a right to life when we are in need of assistance.
Let me digress for a moment here.
I had a discussion with a classmate yesterday about transit police, who are known to be a bit titchy at the best of times. One student said that when they are checking tickets, she will often feign not having hers to push their limits a bit, and see what they do. As a “form of resistance.” And I thought about the white privilege inherent in even being able to engage in such a small act of resistance. Because we see people of colour removed from the trains even when they have tickets. I’ve seen deportation threatened when racialized folks don’t have their tickets (the officers have forced them from the train and called for backup and everything). I have heard stories in other cities of Black men having their passes torn up by transit officers while being told to “go back where you come from.” I certainly have not seen this happen to white people, and neither in my own personal experiences, nor in stories I’ve been told, have I encountered tales of brave allies stepping in to do something about it.
This aside is not the story of a loss of life in tragic circumstances that were clearly based on racism and fear and privilege. But it is an example of the ways that certain things can be taken for granted by those that hold privilege. That riding the bus can be a given, that playing a small prank on an officer of the law will not end in tragedy, and probably, that you can get into a car accident, and presuming you survive the accident, you can also survive the process of going for help.
There are a lot of things to talk about when we talk about the killings of Ms. McBride and Mr. Ferrell. We can talk about gun control, because clearly not everyone should be bearing a gun, discriminating freely. We can talk about fear of a Black planet (or frankly, fear of a Black person ringing a doorbell or knocking on a door because they NEED YOUR DAMN HELP). We can talk about the virtual media silence about these terrible, terrible deaths. But I want to also talk about white privilege and how it functions. I want to talk about how it makes it so that I cannot, with any presumption of safety, ask for help when I need it. And how the things that some people can take for granted are things that could result in my death, the death of my loved ones, or the death of any member of my community. And they do result in deaths. All of the damn time.
Renisha McBride and Jonathan Ferrell had a right to seek and receive help. And instead I find myself writing about their deaths. I think about this unjust world in which we live as Black folks, and I cry for them both.
[Image via Black Youth Project]
Tags: gun violence, jessie-lane metz, jonathan ferrell, racism, renisha mcbride
The more I read about Renisha McBride’s story, the more I hurt. She was shot in the face(!!) — how the hell is that self-defense? A lot of Michigan media outlets (I’m looking at you Detroit Free Press) write things like, “there’s nothing to indicate race was a part of it,” and I just sit there agape at my computer.
Okay, let’s pause. Even if race didn’t influence it at all, shooting someone in the face is fucking terrible. Now let’s hit play. What is up with people thinking that racism and prejudice has to be OBVIOUS to exist? Recently, on Facebook, some individuals believed a Halloween costume of a bunch of white dudes in uniform pointing water guns at a brown guy wasn’t problematic because that brown guy was clearly supposed to be Osama. “It’s patriotic, not racist.” I can’t deal.
Sorry. This has just been making me feel all the feelings. Thank you for writing this, Jessie! I hadn’t really thought about how even being able to perform “small acts of resistance” was a privilege.
At least in this instance, it’s not really “resistance” in any sort of meaningful way though, just provocation for its own sake for which there are unlikely to be any consequences. What is that person accomplishing?
This whole situation is awful. I was reading some of the comments on one of the Free Press articles (I know, I know, I should know better) and they’re infuriating. Someone said something to the effect of “I can’t imagine why he thought he would need to point a gun at her; he could’ve just called the police” and some asshole (white middle aged man, because of course) was like “Really? You can’t imagine? Obviously you’ve never lived in the Detroit area where everyone lives in fear of their lives because of the urban thugs who rule the streets” etc etc.
Listen. I live really close to where this happened–west Dearborn, the shooting was in Dearborn Heights. We’re 15 minutes from Detroit. Dearborn Heights is as suburban and as white as you can get. No one here lives REMOTELY in fear of their lives. I guarantee that if the man who murdered McBride had called the police, they would’ve been there within minutes. Of course, they might have shot her anyway, like they did Ferrell, but still. People are the fucking worst.
I’d love to read about ways that white people can be better allies and use their privilege to help. For example, what would be the appropriate response for a white bystander who is observing police harassment/abuse? I tend to be sort of oblivious to my surroundings most of the time, but I have begun to consider what might be the best action for me to do if I were to see this happen. My first thought is to intervene, but I’m pretty sure that won’t go well, as you can be arrested for interfering with police officers. So my second thought is to try to capture video, which doesn’t actually seem like enough, especially if the encounter turns violent, and is also now illegal in some states. So maybe just try to take video covertly? Again, this doesn’t seem like enough, and it shames me to admit this, but because I’m afraid of the police and the way they abuse their power I worry that I wouldn’t be brave enough to intervene if someone was being harassed or assaulted. What is the best course of action if I were to be witness to this kind of event? I mean…you can’t really call the cops on the cops can you?
I think that if I were to witness it, one of the most effective things to do would be to step in, obviously recording with my smart phone, and say “what’s going on? what’s the problem?” – they may tell you to back off, they may get mad, but if you see something that is racist or sexist or homophobic – step up! I feel like a lot of the time our privilege can make us act like apologists for people who are clearly discriminating. If you take a moment to really evaluate, you can see what is going on and calmly step in to ask the person to reevaluate the situation.
In my large city, I’ve seen plenty of people get together as a group and obviously video cops when they are possibly being racist or overly assertive with someone. As a group, you’re much less likely to get pulled into the fray – it’s more likely to just get the authorities to straighten up.
Ask for badge numbers? Or like, write them down if you can see them? I think, like noodge said, speak up loudly–so other bystanders will be alerted as well–and make it obvious that you are recording (video, audio, pictures, transcribe, badge numbers, whatever).
Ugh IDK, I’m making things up because I am DEFINITELY not brave enough to intervene. I’m a short, weak woman (seriously, I am super weak, not making a comment on short people or women being weak but I have the opposite of an imposing presence). Depending on who’s looking at me, I’m white/asian/halfie/vaguely “ethnic;” certainly not as “threatening” as being black or brown, but a reason for caution nonetheless. I grew up in DC, in an environment in which cops were, if not feared, at the least resented for their well-known abuses of power. I am likely to join in if others are already speaking up, but I don’t believe that I would have the wherewithal to be the first voice.
For relatively unthreatening improper uses of authority, taking badge numbers or otherwise taking tangible notes sounds like a good start: it indicates that you think the situation is questionable or improper, it has low probability of escalating trouble for the person being targeted (and may even draw attention from them to you, a person of relative privilege), and it doesn’t arrogate agency from the targeted person to yourself.
That is, it doesn’t make the situation about what you want to happen, but gives the person under scrutiny a chance to engage with you or not, and the knowledge that someone standing by is paying attention and taking down information that they themselves might not feel free to record. It’s not enough, and I’m not sure what would be enough, but it’s a good start.
You can also think about whether or not you care if an action is illegal. Things are pretty bad – some civil disobedience that’s based on videotaping cops in public seems like a good place to start. Of course, you obviously have to think about the personal risks of doing so, but I think it should be on the menu.
On the recording issue, make sure you know what your state laws are. Twelve states require consent from “all parties” before recording a conversation (although all but two of those states have an exception which will allow recording of on-duty police. Mass. and Illinois apparently do not allow it). This article has some good advice to know before filming. http://gizmodo.com/5900680/7-rules-for-recording-…
Maryland only requires that you tell someone they are being recorded, although I suppose that could be a problem with cops, i.e. they may decide to take and/or destroy your camera or whatever you are using, which they couldn’t if they didn’t know they were being recorded. AFAIK the state cops and most local forces in MD have a good record – except PG County Police who have an appalling one! (No, I don’t live there, although I often pass through it)
Actually I suppose you can, but will the FBI come that quickly? I honestly don’t know the answer to that one.
I’m from Milwaukee, which is one of the most segregated cities in the U.S. and home to much racist abuse, violence, and murder much of which is perpetrated by police. My white, male friends witnessed cops harassing black teenagers and pushing a young black woman against a car and intervened by filming and vocally stating that they were watching and could see that the officer was abusing power and breaking the law. The officer then tried to detain one of my friends and began threatening him, at which point the other friends made it clear that they had video footage, which changed the conversation completely and resulted in the officer letting my friend go. It was unpleasant for all involved, and there was a brief threat of arrest for my one friend, but ultimately they took police away from harassing that young woman and other people in the area. So, I suppose that in stepping up and speaking out you run the risk of being detained but if you are white and have time and resources you can take a gamble to stand up for someone who doesn’t have that privilege.
And on a completely frivolous note, Jessie, I like every word of your “about author.”
This is just total insanity. It just is like, what even is happening in this country? All the little kids my BBs go to daycare with, that are just as adorable and loved and human as my kids, are facing an entirely different future than them because of the color of their skin? Like, a future where they might be killed at any moment and all that happens is shrugs and someone saying they probably deserved it? And not even hope for justice for their killer? What the fuck, America.
Just to make you not miss home (counterbalancing the email I sent to your hairpin account yesterday about sculptures by the sea), our Coalition government is currently having section 18C struck from the anti-discrimination act (the bit that specifies that people discriminated against based on their ethnicity have a right to legal recourse), meaning that now people can just bandy about the N-word in Australia and not face legal repercussions! All because it supposedly infringes on our rights to free speech! WE ARE ACTUALLY GOING BACKWARDS.
NOTE: I did not vote for them.
I really have to wonder about what is supposed to be done about this. When Trayvon Martin’s case first started receiving media attention, it seemed like a good thing. But even after all of the media coverage, there are still plenty of people who believe that Zimmerman was justified in doing what he did, and he went free. I would like to know what can possibly be done to prevent these things from happening. Of course, I would like to see the person who killed this girl be prosecuted, but I feel pessimistic about the outcome.
For relatively unthreatening improper uses of authority, taking badge numbers or otherwise taking tangible notes sounds like a good start: it indicates that you think the situation is questionable or improper, it has low probability of escalating trouble for the person being targeted (and may even draw attention from them to you, a person of relative privilege), and it doesn't arrogate agency from the targeted person to yourself.
That is, it doesn't make the situation about what you want to happen, but gives the person under scrutiny a chance to engage with you or not, and the knowledge that someone standing by is paying attention and taking down information that they themselves might not feel free to record. It's not enough, and I'm not sure what would be enough, but it's a good start.
I can’t even find words adequate to thank you for this piece, or to express the mixture of sickness and rage that Renisha McBride’s death raises in my heart.
I can't even find words adequate to thank you for this piece, or to express the mixture of sickness and rage that Renisha McBride's death raises in my heart.
I hope this case gets the coverage it deserves and it starts a more productive conversation that moves us forward. There is nothing “ambiguous”* here to derail the dialogue.
Also not to make this me me me, but to give you hope about people recognizing transit related white privilege. I left my transfer on the bus the other morning and the next driver was nice enough to still let on. I fully recognize the influence of my nice white lady persona in that situation.
*ambiguous in quotes because there was nothing actually ambiguous in Trayvon Martin’s case
I have struggled, since hearing about this case, to articulate my feelings about it, even to myself. Because, at the root of it: I was promised a better world. Where the fuck is my better world? I am really fucking horrified that people have to live with this fear, and that her family has to live with the aftermath of this, and why the fuck is it taking so long for humans to NOT ACT LIKE THIS?
Thank you Ms. Metz.