Ferguson

In Solidarity with Ferguson, Act Locally: 5 Things White People Can Do to Combat Racist Police Violence

Scott Olson/Getty Images, Found Here

Like countless others around the country, I have been wrapped up in pain, anger, and concern over the killing of Michael Brown, the police cover up, the protests, and violent police response to those protests.  It’s been concerning (though perhaps not surprising) to see the state-sanctioned displays of White supremacy and utter contempt for the constitutional rights of poor Black people (especially with recent restraint used by institutional power when White protestors were pointing weapons at federal agents).

Perhaps what’s most concerning, though, is how this situation is described by White acquaintances, friends, and family who are not actively engaged in anti-racist action.

Some responses blame the victim: “Michael Brown was a criminal.” “If the protestors would just be civil, the police wouldn’t react the way they have.”

Other responses express naive shock and outrage: “How could this happen in America?” “Clearly the police in Ferguson are corrupt.”

But what seems to be missed in many of these reactions is that this is not a problem of Ferguson, MO. This is a problem of every single city and municipality in the United States of America.

As a result, there is a need to take action.  If you are able and are called to do so, consider joining the Black Lives Matter Ride to Ferguson on Labor Day weekend.  If you can’t head to Ferguson, consider financially supporting those who are taking part in this historic ride  (link takes you to Darnell Moore‘s fundraiser, but there are others linked below his to support as well).

However, those of us who cannot travel to Ferguson might feel like there’s nothing more we can do. Yet when we understand this as an interconnected problem of power and oppression, we immediately open up a world of action locally.

After all, when we as White people see Ferguson as an isolated problem, we actually contribute to the wider problem of White supremacy in our systems because we forever treat the problem as “over there” rather than right here on our home cities.

As a result, there is a need for us as White people (particularly since we often easily move from issue to issue and cause to cause) to see protests in Ferguson as part of a wider movement against the state-sanctioned extra-judicial murder and brutalization of people of Color by police and their proxies.

And when we realize that Ferguson is part of a history and a movement against police brutality that disproportionately affects communities of Color, we empower ourselves to act locally for justice.

5 Ways to Act Locally Against Racist Police Violence

1. Know Their Names, Say Their Names

Every 28 hours, a Black person is killed by police or those protected by police in the United States. That doesn’t even account for the Latino, Asian or Pacific Islander, Indigenous, or (most often low-income) White victims of police extra-judicial killing.  Nor does this number account for all of those victims of police brutality who survive but must live with the trauma and injuries from this violence.

Thus, no matter where you live, people locally are being impacted by police (and proxy) violence.

An important place for you to start, then, is to do the research to find the names and stories of those locally impacted by police violence.

Alonzo Ashley, Source

When I lived in Denver, activists were organizing to hold police accountable for the murder of Alonzo Ashley.

In Minneapolis, activists are working to hold the police accountable for the murder of

Terrance Franklin, Source

Terrance Franklin and for the beating of Al Flowers for demanding to see a warrant when police invaded his home.

By knowing the names and stories of those locally impacted by police violence, you ground this movement in your community and you open the door to local action.

2. Raise Awareness Locally

Once you’re aware of the police violence affecting local communities, you can help raise the consciousness of those around you. Local awareness and engagement is vital for changing policy, police training, and civic practice in your community.

More often than not, White folks are totally oblivious to this violence and/or blame the victims for the violence taking place. Thus, there is a particular need for us to call other White folks into the conversation about police brutality.

Whether through social media or over a dinner with a friend, look for ways that you can help those who are unaware understand the problem of police (and proxy) violence in our cities and towns.

3. Pressure Local Power Holders

Once we are aware of the problem, we have to do more than bemoan the issue within the comfort of our homes.  We have to hold local power holders accountable to creating change.

Particularly for those of us with access (as a result of wealth or connections), there is a need to press mayors, city council members, alderman, police chiefs, public prosecutors, and other local power holders for change.  When they ignore you (and they likely will), keep contacting them. Set up meetings, and email them regularly.

When you reach out, here are a few specific, measurable things you can call for:

  • Demand Police Body Cameras – We live in an age that allows incredible surveillance of police behavior for accountability purposes, but only a small minority of police forces prioritize the technology for this accountability. Body cameras, a simple and inexpensive addition to the police uniform, have been found to reduce incidents of excessive police force by as much as 50% where used. Costing as little as $199 per officer (plus hosting and transmission costs), this not only can reduce the violence committed and protect citizens from violence, but it can protect police who are doing their jobs legitimately.  Plus, limiting police brutality also ensures that cities don’t need to pay out millions in settlements in civil suits, so if you’re talking to someone who values tax savings over considerations of human life (yes, they exist), you can show how cameras actually save tax payers money.
  • Demand Accountable Civilian Review – Having cameras and accountability procedures is ineffective unless there is a legitimate and empowered civilian review authority with actual teeth to hold police accountable. After all, when footage from body cameras or dash cameras is held and stored by police, it’s far too easy for footage to conveniently disappear (“Oh, that camera was malfunctioning that day”) when there’s an incident of police violence. Thus, if your city doesn’t have a civilian review authority with actual teeth, demand one. The local police union will fight to ensure it is ineffective, but civilian review from members of the community most affected is a powerful tool for change.
  • Demand Independent Police Liability Insurance – Currently city governments are on the hook financially when their police officers brutalize citizens, yet police unions are powerful enough that local politicians rarely hold police accountable.  However, insurance companies that care about their bottom line would have no problem holding police accountable when they abuse their authority.  Thus, a simple thing to demand in your municipality is for police to be required to pay for their own liability insurance as a condition of employment in the police department. If they brutalize citizens and end up losing a suit, the insurance companies will make it quite expensive to hold insurance or will drop the officer completely, thus ensuring that the person can no longer be employed as a police officer in your city. Simply put, hit them in the pocket book to hold police accountable. Learn about the movement in Minneapolis to require police to purchase their own insurance.

4. Join The Movement Against Police Brutality Locally

Everywhere that police are brutalizing citizens, people are organizing to hold police accountable. If you live in even a medium-sized city, there’s a good chance that your city has an organized group working against police brutality. Connect with the local organizers and organizations that are demanding change. Not sure who those folks are? Show up to local protests against police brutality and ask about who the organizers were, or connect with local activists via social media and ask how you can help.  Then work to build trust and volunteer your time and energy to help!

Keep in mind, though, that as White folks, it’s not our job to be in charge.  Offer your support, but recognize that you don’t need to be in the limelight or in a leadership role. There are powerful activists in every community with the lived experience and history in activism to lead. If we’re just coming to the movement, it’s our job to listen, learn, and support.

5. Connect and Collaborate with Nearby Movements

Knowing that this is a problem in pretty much every community in the country and knowing that there are seasoned activists who’ve been standing up to this problem for generations, connecting with multiple organizations in an area can help build a wider movement.  Maybe they are already connected and learning from one another, but if they’re not, a simple way to help is to network and learn from others nearby who are doing the work to hold police forces accountable.  The more we connect our efforts in the age of digital media and communication, the more effective we can be in ensuring that violent, racist police forces (and the powers above them) cannot act with impunity.

———–

Regardless of how we engage, we have to engage. As we are far less likely to be impacted by police violence directly, but police violence hurts everyone as it tears apart any hope for true democracy.

Sure, there are White people who are beaten or killed by cops, and they are more likely to be low-wealth White folks.  We need to understand, though, that while fearing state-sanctioned violence is a daily reality for most people of Color in the United States (but particularly for Black, Indigenous, and Brown people), it’s just not something most White folks ever consider.

And finally, to those who immediately jump into the #NotAllCops defense upon hearing criticisms like those in this piece, stop. No, not all cops are actively participating in the murder and brutalization of citizens, but this is about more than the racism of individual cops. That’s why there are plenty of police of Color who contribute to the problem.

This is about a system of oppression that since its inception has used the implied or active violence of police forces for everything from slave patrols to re-enslaving escaped slaves to beating civil rights marchers to brutalizing people of Color in order to crush the hopes and dreams of those for whom this country was not made.

Simply put, “America is not for Black people,” and one of the most foundational roles of the police is to protect and maintain the status quo in a system of oppression.

Other resources:

Donate to Lost Voices, activists on the ground in Ferguson

Donate to Millennial Activists United through PayPal using the email address millennialAU@gmail.com

Donate to those providing legal support on the ground in Ferguson and STL.

The Wages of Whiteness: How Ferguson Calls On Us as White People to Regain Our Humanity

Showing Up for Racial Justice – Police Brutality Action Kit

12 Things White People Can Do Now Because of Ferguson – By Janee Woods

12 Things White People Can Do About Ferguson Besides Tweet – By Kate Hardin

Advertisements
Screen Shot 2014-08-06 at 10.55.24 AM

Cultural Appropriation: Calling ‘This American Life’ In to Accountability

AliceAlice H. is a writer, educator, dreamer, and social worker.  She is dedicated to supporting and encouraging the work of interconnection and allyship through anti-oppression work, storytelling, and communion with the natural world.  She works with the emotional healing of the heart, communicating the message to people that they have a right, no matter the circumstance, to be seen and acknowledged.  She believes through the sharing of our stories we traverse the process of healing our hearts, which enables us to be better stewards to ourselves, to each other and to the earth.  She derives great wisdom from her teachers in the animal, plant, and spirit world and seeks to share these learnings through her writings.  She is based out of Denver, Colorado.

Read more of Alice’s writing at her blog, Weaving Webs.

***

Screen Shot 2014-08-06 at 10.55.24 AM

I was recently listening to a This American Life podcast as I biked to work, and I became quite irritated by the story I heard.  A few days ago, I wrote This American Life an email with my thoughts and response to that specific story.  Below, is the email, which I would like to flesh out into a larger piece regarding the insistence that white folks step back and create/allow/demand space for other communities to share their own stories and to just listen to the stories that are already being told by these communities.

The story that was shared on This American Life was regarding the writing of The Education of Little Treea book that is still taught in high schools today.  I have not read this book myself, and the information that I share regarding it comes from the show.  The “autobiography,” which was written in the mid 1970s (not so long ago) claims to be written by a Cherokee man recounting his childhood growing up with his Cherokee grandparents and learning “the ways.”

The book became a huge success; it was at the top of the New York Times bestsellers list, the author was on the Today show, and Oprah put it on her booklist in the 1990s.  While the book was being released, some folks in Alabama recognized the fellow claiming to be Forrest Carter as Asa Carter, a prolific white supremacist writer and Klu Klux Klan leader who wrote many speeches for the anti-civil rights, racist governor of Alabama, George Wallace.

“Segregation today, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever” ring a bell?  Yep, that’s him, Asa Carter, who moved to Texas in the late 1960s, grew a mustache, tanned his skin, changed his name to Forrest, and began to claim Cherokee heritage.

And let’s be clear: these hateful words and others created a climate of fear and violence where four young girls were killed in a bombing of a church and where state troopers beat and teargassed civil rights demonstrators.  The information regarding Forrest Carter’s real identity came out right before the book was published, with little response.  Much later, the book was changed from non-fiction to fiction but can still be found in the Native American Section of bookstores today.

To me, this is the outrage and this should have been the focus of the program, or at least more throughly critiqued so as to still fit within the overarching theme of the show. The question that the program posited was whether Asa/Forrest Carter could have done a complete 180 degree turn in his life.

In my opinion this could never have been true regardless of if his views regarding race had changed.  This could not have been true because he was still a White man claiming the story of a Cherokee person, a story which garnered him much acclaim and, I would guess, profit.  The fact that this story is still being taught today in our schools only serves to perpetuate this racist notion that it is okay for White folks to claim others’ stories.

Let me be clear, White folks and other folks with institutionally backed power: THIS IS NOT OKAY.  I know that many have good intent and are unaware of the underlining unjustness of claiming another’s story or sharing someone else’s story through your socially normalized vantage point.  I know that many believe that our society has moved past racism and the need to acknowledge its deep wounds.  As such, we have moved towards a more insidious form of racism which is cultural appropriation under the guise of “honoring” and “sharing culture.”

This is a contemporary form of colonization, i.e. the claiming of something that doesn’t belong to you without any kind of contextual knowledge or true responsibility at the psychic cost of those whose culture is being appropriated.  To understand more about cultural appropriation, read Naomi Archer’s open letter to the British Columbia Witchcamp.

I know that many believe that they are offering homage to a culture that they admire, but this is not being an ally.  Being an ally is working in solidarity, not charity or sympathy.  It is listening to the stories that are being told, and sharing these stories with permission and guidance within your community.  It is examining the ease with which you and the stories of folks like you take up space in our society (your privilege). It is taking a step back. It is being uncomfortable. It is being humbled.

Please read Paul Kivel’s guidelines for being a strong white ally.  To follow is the email that I sent to This American Life with my thoughts on their portrayal of the Forrest/Asa Carter story:

Hello,

I was wanting to share my specific response to the first segment of 180 Degrees regarding Asa/Forrest Carter and The Education of Little Tree. This is no doubt an important story to share, but it frustrated and saddened me that the underlying racism of a White man (historically a White supremacist) claiming a Cherokee story that is still being taught in schools today (with and without acknowledgment) was not more critically examined.

Without this, your program unfortunately becomes a continuation of this type of racism.  It is true that today we (White folks) continue to take/share/co-opt the stories of folks of Color with good and malintent. But intent matters little when the impact causes pain, particularly when the privileges of one group is in direct relationship with the genocide and oppression of another.  This, I wished your story had mentioned, as well as how inappropriate it is for schools to continue teaching this story to our youth with made up words and history.

A story that continues to romanticize the spiritual Native American (which impacts our current justification of the racist trend in fashion and lifestyle) without sharing the story of genocide, of forced relocation, of boarding schools, of the prohibiting of spiritual and cultural practices that manifest today in disease and in pain is simply irresponsible. And of course these communities exist in and create great beauty today as well, we often forget that it all manifests simultaneously. Cherokee folks, Native folks – they exist and are here; they tell and write stories, and it is these we must hear and read in our schools.

It is not our role to tell these stories. It is our role to provide space for these stories to be told and to demand that White folks listen to these communities so that healing can continue. It is through honoring and hearing each others’ stories that we come together as a larger community, that we move forward into a time when we treat one another and the earth with more love.

I believe your program wants this change, and I am grateful for your program; it has touched me, educated me, and humored me for many years. However, at times you miss important points that should be highlighted, and the segment I mention is an example of one such opportunity.

One way you could have addressed this issue or become aware of it yourself is to have asked a contemporary Cherokee activist to share their thoughts on this story.  I do not doubt Alex Blumberg’s good intent in producing this story, but unfortunately he becomes another White man re-telling the story without asking folks from the affected community to share their thoughts.  Simply stating that the introduction to the second pressing of  the book was written by a Cherokee man does not do this.

Those that grow up under a system that normalizes this type of co-opting are of course prone to believe in its legitimacy.  I am also aware that folks within the Cherokee community will have differing views on the appropriateness of Carter’s actions, and this is part of the ambiguous times that we live in.  I would hope for your show, and perhaps you already do this, to hire some folks from the communities whose stories YOU are sharing, editing, crafting from footage YOU research and record to see and hear their thoughts on YOUR portrayal. It is in this way that we as White folks attempt to be accountable.

In conclusion, I want to make clear that I am not writing this email with anger. I am writing with the desire that true dialogue and reflection can take place. I am happy to answer any questions you may have.

Best, Alice