Numbing shock rolled over me as I learned about the killings in LOUISIANA, Minnesota, and Texas. How could such senseless violence continue?
And not just physical violence, but the verbal violence as well, with the usual suspects being blamed depending on the political tribe volleying the verbiage: guns, Black Lives Matter, police occupation, President Obama, Donald Trump, black people, white people…the predictability was mind-numbing.
“Just be like us,” tribal spokespeople seemed to be saying, “and everything will be great again.”
The following evening, however, while monitoring the coverage on MSNBC and National Public Radio, I learned about how a diverse group of people had taken part in the demonstration in Dallas protesting the shootings in Minneapolis and Louisiana. How relations between demonstrators and law enforcement had been friendly, with demonstrators and police officers jointly posing for pictures. How members of both groups had worked together to save all lives when the shooting started. And how members of both groups had expressed the fear that this shooting would undo the good will that had developed.
“What good will?” I wondered.
I learned about how David Brown, since becoming Dallas’s police chief in May, 2010, had begun forging partnerships with members of the African American community. How he had begun instituting policies aimed at making it less likely that violence would have to be used. And how both crime and complaints against police had been reduced.
I learned that similar policies in Washington, DC and elsewhere were beginning to show promise. And I learned that a coalition of community leaders and law enforcement representatives had put together a series of recommendations to address this “people of color”-law enforcement divide.
This divide has been around for hundreds of years, and we may be reaching a tipping point that will cause rapidly-spreading ugliness. But tragedies also provide us the chance to come together to amplify those programs that show promise.
Politicians and the media can follow President Obama’s lead by publicizing these potential successes. Instead of repeating those dreary “diversity dialogues” that President Clinton led in the 1990s, which only widened the divide between progressives and conservatives, let each community, through trusted local institutions, find organic ways for people of diverse backgrounds to work together towards agreed-upon goals. And with more and more people legally carrying guns, the National Rifle Association can remind their allies in the law enforcement community that the “right to carry” applies to everyone: that when an African American man tells a police officer that he has a firearm that he is legally allowed to carry, he should be treated like someone who is white.
Finally, according to a report on disability and policing from the Ruderman Family Foundation, between one third and one-half of all those killed by police between 2013 and 2015 had a disability.
I haven’t seen any research concerning the rate of disability among police officers, but listening to the recordings of several of those controversial encounters between officers and African American males, I couldn’t help noticing how the voices of policemen suddenly shifted from quiet authority to panicked shouting. Might this be sometimes necessary? Might this be fear-driven? Or, might it be an example of post-traumatic stress disorder?
Given the stress officers experience, it would seem logical that a percentage would develop depression, bipolar disorder, or other disabilities. So let’s find ways to sensitize both communities to the challenges of people with disabilities, especially those with mental illness. Let’s work together to improve the treatment system, which too often just increases the stress of those being treated.
There’s a time to mourn, and a time to move ahead. There are no magic bullets, but there are signs of progress to guide us.
Let’s ease on down the road.
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