Immediate Reaction to George Floyd Video

By Gary Polk

May 26, 2020 will be a day I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I remember scrolling through my phone and seeing news of a “Black man killed in police custody.” The article also mentioned that the event was caught on video. I read the article. Then I watched the video. I was not prepared. My immediate reaction? An overwhelming feeling of “this isn’t right.” A depth of emotions. The inability to articulate those emotions or feelings. A feeling of “this isn’t right” that had so many more layers to it that in the moment I could not categorize. Looking back, those layers were anger, frustration, betrayal, despair, and helplessness.

I was disgusted by the lack of humanity. The pleas for help were heart wrenching, but it was the callousness and nonchalant attitude of Derek Chauvin while he had his knee on Mr. Floyd’s neck that left me disgusted and angered. How could you treat another human being like that? The video made me angry. The video made me sad. The video made me feel a strong sense of injustice. I think the majority of people who saw that video, no matter their skin color, felt those emotions because of the inhumanity of it.

As a Black man the video also brought a different set of emotions. I felt vulnerable. I felt helpless. The murder was too real, too relatable. It could have been me, my brother, my best friend, my uncle, my cousin, my dad. It was the reason why my parents had the “talk” with me, the reason I will have to have the “talk” with my children. It was a reminder of the danger that Black people deal with daily.

That video also caused a feeling of disconnect. A disconnect because I felt the pain and emotions on a different level than many of those in the community. It was not something that could be moved on from within a day or two, or even a week. This was not something that would be could be dealt with by a discussion at the dinner table or at the water cooler as a conversation piece or teaching moment. It was not a fleeting moment or a small or isolated incident. It disconnected me from everyone that felt like that. It disconnected me from those who felt bad about what happened but couldn’t grasp the true depth of it. It created a divide for those who wanted to explain, talk politics, or play devil’s advocate rather than listen and absorb how I felt and what were my thoughts.

Background

When I see the police or law enforcement, I see someone fore the most part, in the words of Mister Rogers is “a helper.” I see someone that I’m 99% sure chose that line of work because they want to help the community and protect the vulnerable. I also know that above all else, those in law enforcement are human. I know they have feelings, emotions, prejudices, and blind spots just like everyone else. I also know they also are equipped with a significant amount of power.

Together we saw George Floyd murdered by a man wearing a police uniform. What Black People also saw was a reminder of the relationship and history between law enforcement and Black people. The justice system has not always been kind to us. There was the Jim Crow laws that were enforced by the government and police officers. The Civil Rights Movement and police officers arresting Martin Luther King Jr. and protestors who were fighting for equality. The water hoses and police dogs. Those times were not that long ago. Rodney King being brutally beaten on videotape and the men responsible found not guilty was not that long ago.

Derek Chauvin was a reminder that the power mixed with humanity can be a deadly combination. While Derek Chauvin and his callous actions do not represent all of law enforcement, he is a reminder that we still have a long way to go.

My Experience

I first had “the talk” when I was ten years old. My dad sat me and my brother down and explained to us what to do if we were ever stopped by law enforcement. We had “the talk” numerous times after that, too many to count. It was stated as fact that there would be a time where we would have to use the lessons from “the talk” in our lives.

My brother was 17 years old, a member of his school’s football, basketball, and track teams. He was on the honor roll, and a member of the National Honor Society. He was stopped by the police one morning on the way to school. He had picked up a few of his friends that did not have transportation to school. He ended up being stopped by three police cars and forced at gunpoint to get out of the car, laydown on the asphalt, and searched for drugs and weapons. All they found was his backpack, his lunch money, and three, scared to death, Black teenagers. He told me about it when he got home from school and I remembered being scared for him, frustrated that it happened to him, and resigned that one day I’d have my own experience.

I was a junior in college when my experience happened. I was walking home from the library to my dorm room. A cop car pulled up next to me and two cops got out and told me to put my hands up. They made me lay down on the sidewalk while they searched me and then sit on the curb with my hands behind my back like a criminal. I told them I was walking home from the library and they told me that I fit the description of a robbery suspect. I started to explain how I couldn’t have committed a crime and was met with an answer filled with expletives. I remembered “the talk” that my dad had given me and the goal was “just get home and we can sort it out later.” I sat there silently for the next five minutes. I sat there in humiliation as others walked by and judged me. I sat there in humiliation as I was treated like a criminal. There was no apology. There was no empathy for the humiliation I felt for the next few weeks.

Those incidents were not the only experiences that I’ve personally suffered or those close to me. There’s been the times I was racially profiled and have had law enforcement make a U-turn to pull me over. Times I’ve been told I was stopped because I didn’t match the demographic of the neighborhood. The lesson I learned from “the talk” and my own experiences in situations with law enforcement is to be careful, to be quiet, to be hopeful that I don’t come into contact with a bad cop, and to pray to God that I’m going to make it home.

My Kids

I’m going to give “the talk” to my kids. I don’t have a choice. They don’t have a choice. I’m going to remind them that police are good. I’m going to tell them that they are here to help. I’m also going to tell them WHEN they get stopped by the police what to do. I will tell them to keep their hands where the police can see them at all times. I will tell them to announce what they are doing before they do it. To do everything the police officer asks. I will instill in them that the goal is to make it home. I will tell them to say a prayer that everything goes smoothly. The hardest part is going to be when I have to tell them why. I will have to tell them the reason we have to have “the talk” and follow a strict set of rules. I will have to tell them the reason is because they were born Black.

My Hope

In the days following the murder of George Floyd my prayer has been for God to let me see others as he sees them. That God let us see others see people of color as he sees them. My hope is that this murder encourages us when it comes race. That it would encourage us to discover our own blind spots and be willing to admit that they exist. In response that we look inward and ask “is there something I’m not seeing about myself or my perception of others that’s detrimental or racially offensive? As a Black man, I hope to be heard and acknowledged. I hope that my feelings regarding this situation or race relations are not dismissed or politicized. I hope that those listening, or reading would be humble. I hope for open ears and closed mouths. As a Christian, I hope that you see me and treat me as your brother. I hope that you feel my pain and hurt as my brother would. I hope that my vulnerability was worth it.