Don't let George Floyd die in vain

Fred McCormick
The Valley Echo
June 4, 2020

Fred McCormick

I like to choose my words carefully. When I find myself surrounded by chaos, my initial instinct is to remain calm, speak as little as possible and focus on what is happening around me. In my personal experience, active listening and empathy are vital tools when it comes to gaining insight into the thoughts and feelings of others. 

I was well aware of how the viral video which captured the death of George Floyd at the hands of four Minneapolis police officers was going to end before I watched it just over a week ago. While I had no desire to witness the tragic final moments of another man’s life, I felt an obligation as an American to do so. It was simultaneously heartbreaking and infuriating. 

It took me a few moments to collect myself after watching the nearly 9-minute video and even less time for the visceral emotional responses to spread across virtually every social media platform. People around the world expressed anger, sadness and fear, in varying degrees, as they responded to the senseless killing of an African American man who was asphyxiated under the weight of the law enforcement officers in broad daylight in front of a crowd of onlookers. 

Millions turned to social media to express their outrage and demand widespread changes to the criminal justice system in America and punishment for all four officers involved, while communities around the country began organizing protests in response to the trauma of reliving a tragedy that unfolds too often in our country. Those protests gave way to riots in cities all over America and lit a fuse that continues to burn. 

I haven’t been able to bring myself to speak publicly about the terrible thing that happened to George Floyd, or about the events that have unfolded in the aftermath. While many on social media are demanding that people speak about the issue of police brutality, I found that there was just too much to say to put in a Twitter or Facebook post. 

However, I’ve read so many tweets, seen so many Facebook posts and watched so many livestreams, in an effort to gain insight into the collective public consciousness as America continues to grapple with its fractured soul.

You don’t need to be a historian to know that black people are in the very DNA of this country. The first Africans were brought to the British colony of Jamestown in the New World in 1619. They were taken off of a boat in chains and sold into slavery. Nearly two centuries before we became a country, black men and women and their descendants were powering America’s rapid ascent as a global power. Often treated as merely property and disposable commodities, the forced labor of those black men and women was the fuel that ignited an economy that created what would become known to their white contemporaries as the “American Dream.”

To be clear, I’m saying that without black people, the United States of America does not exist as we know it. 

Slavery brought millions of Africans to this country, and their descendants were held in bondage and under threat of torture and death until 1865. The ultimate price of their freedom was the lives of more than 600,000 American soldiers. With the conclusion of the Civil War, it would be three more years before free black men and women were recognized as citizens of the United States.

But, even with emancipation came new forms of oppression. Jim Crow laws in the South obliterated the little progress that the newly freed citizens of America made during the Reconstruction period following the war. These segregation laws, enacted by state and local governments, were brutally enforced by the officers sworn to uphold them at the time. 

The legacy of the Jim Crow era in American history is a profound and long-lasting mistrust of the criminal justice system within the black community. Many African Americans alive today know someone who was targeted, harassed or much worse for breaking laws enacted to enforce segregation and oppression. So when an unarmed black man is killed by police and filmed for the world to see, it serves as a reminder of an unjust system that has far too often failed to protect a significant portion of its American citizens. 

My intention with this information is not to provide a lecture on history, it’s to offer context on the duality of America. For some, the nation is a beacon of freedom, while for others, like early 20th century poet and activist Langston Hughes, it represents a dream deferred. 

Racism is not unique to our country, but it has found fertile soil here that has allowed it to grow strong roots that have permeated every aspect of our society. And, while the national spotlight is fixated firmly on the actions of the four law enforcement officers who were charged for their roles in the murder of Floyd, I would submit that America is, once again, facing a reckoning of our collective journey as a country. 

I will not pretend to know the motivations of the officers who took away George Floyd’s right to live, but I am confident that the victim was acutely aware of the danger he faced in the minutes before his death. It was a heavy burden that he and his ancestors have been forced to carry for more than 400 years. 

Justice for George Floyd should not be a political argument, considering that the same two parties have effectively been in power since 1852, and neither has been able to offer any comprehensive plan to strengthen and empower black people in this country. Racism in America is not a Democrat problem or a Republican problem, it is a moral problem. 

I can feel the pain of the country through social media, and I truly understand. That man could have been any number of black men that I love, support and respect. As is often the case when there is a societal trauma involving the brutal treatment of a black American—and there are many throughout our history— we are well into the phase of this tragedy where people lash out aggressively at one another over points completely unrelated to the plight of African Americans.

I don’t want George Floyd to have died in vain. If we, as a country, allow this to devolve into a debate over ideologies, the entire country will re-victimize him. We can’t allow that to happen. 

We won’t fix the problems facing black America until we stop turning their experiences into political fodder. It is incumbent upon each of us, for the betterment of every American, to understand that this agony is real. George Floyd’s family lost a loved one because we can’t seem to get this right. 

This is a moment in time that allows our collective society to reflect on the realities that black people face in America. As individuals, we can do our parts to try to understand and influence change on a community level. Use the passion that you feel from this to find a tangible way to help your fellow Americans. 

This familiar tragedy, playing out again on a national stage, lays bare black people’s painful history here. It represents an opportunity to strike a decisive blow against the injustices that have eroded this country from within since its very conception. I don’t want to see this kind of tragedy happen again, but, unfortunately, it seems likely that it will. And, it will continue to happen if we don’t start thinking about real solutions. 

Historically in the U.S., a lot is made of the concept of “patriotism” during times like this. Some accuse others of lacking support for their country by opposing their methods of creating change, while others point to symbols like the American flag to define it. 

Personally, I view patriotism as working to help your fellow citizens to create a better society however you can. So, if you want to proclaim yourself as a patriot, perhaps the best place to start is by doing your part to help mend the fractured foundation upon which this country was built.