(CNN)
The
acquittals of police officer Jeronimo Yanez in the death of Philando
Castile in St. Paul, Minnesota; and the not guilty verdict in the
trial of former police officer Dominique Heaggan-Brown in the death
of
Sylville
K. Smith,
23, in Milwaukee, come on the heels of new fatal police shootings,
like that of
Charleena
Lyles,
30, a pregnant mother of four, who was shot to death by Seattle
police in her apartment after she called to report a burglary.
As
the US approaches July 13, the second anniversary of the death of
Sandra
Bland
in
a Texas jail cell, the public wants justice and seeks solutions. Even
the military has rules of engagement regarding civilian populations,
and yet some communities feel the police are an occupying force that
regard them as enemy combatants.
Finding
the answers to how police and the neighborhoods they serve can come
together and end the conflict requires that we understand and address
the root of the problem. A recent community conversation I moderated
on race in the community, which was sponsored by
Kenny
Leon's True Colors Theatre Company
in
Atlanta, raised multiple questions and possibilities for how America
might make positive change in the relationship between communities
and police.
Atlanta,
like so many other cities, is grappling with these issues, too, and
its example may offer insight to other communities as they struggle.
The city is ahead of the curve, but arrived there the hard way -- as
a result of issues with police training, misconduct and disastrous
numbers-driven policing. Things came to a head with a botched 2006
drug raid resulting in the police killing of
Kathryn
Johnston,
a 92-year old grandmother, and a warrantless raid on the
Atlanta
Eagle Bar,
a gay bar, in 2009. The raids led to state and federal
investigations, federal lawsuits against the city of Atlanta and the
police, and resulted in fired and
imprisoned
police officers.
Some major reforms included a civilian review board, court-mandated
retraining on lawful search and seizure procedures, restrictions on
"no-knock" search warrants, mandatory drug testing of
officers, and police name tags.
Back
then, the problem was that "our team would be gauged on how many
arrests we could make in a week," said Atlanta Chief of Police
Erika
Shields
at
the community conversation of her days on the force. "If you
know you've got to make a certain mark, you hustle and you get it
done. You're not taking the time to talk to someone, you're not
taking the time to walk the beat." The second woman -- and first
openly LGBTQ cop -- to lead the Atlanta police, Shields came up
through the ranks of the force. She said the key to effective
policing depends on the expectations placed on officers and the
criteria by which they are measured.
Serving
as chief since January, Shields says she has focused on violent crime
and guns on the street, not the bag of weed, and not simply racking
up arrest numbers. "What I want to know is, are we tacking crime
effectively?" said Shields, who
has
emphasized,
for instance, that during the crack epidemic, people who needed help
were instead locked up. "I want us to get into this space where
we don't arrest juveniles. I do not want us locking up young black
males."
Shields'
comments reflect an awareness of the history of race and policing and
how the two have been inextricably intertwined in the United States
since the days of slavery. Some of the nation's first police forces
were
slave patrols,
which enforced the laws of the plantation police state, caught
runaway slaves, thwarted revolts, and punished and executed slaves.
During Jim Crow segregation, many police officers were Ku Klux Klan
members, participating in a reign of terror and the lynching of black
people and civil rights workers.
When
black officers were allowed on the police force, they faced racial
discrimination. This was the case in Atlanta, as former Atlanta Daily
World publisher and Atlanta Journal-Constitution journalist
Alexis
Scott
noted
in conversation with Chief Shields. For example, the
first
black officers in the Atlanta police department in 1948
were
not allowed to arrest white people or patrol white neighborhoods, and
worked in segregated facilities outside of police headquarters.
In
1962, Malcolm X
articulated
the
longstanding problems of policing in the black community, and spoke
of the press inflaming whites against black people. "Once the
police have convinced the white public that the so-called Negro
community is a criminal element, they can go in and question,
brutalize, murder unarmed, innocent Negroes and the white public is
gullible enough to back them up. This makes the Negro community a
police state," he said.
Following
the urban unrest 50 years ago in Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles,
Newark and other American cities -- typically precipitated by
controversial police actions -- the
Kerner
Commission
(established
by President Johnson to investigate the causes of the 1967 race
riots)
reported
that
the "abrasive relationship between the police and the minority
communities has been a major -- and explosive -- source of grievance,
tension and disorder."
Further,
the commission reported, the police had "come to symbolize white
power, white racism and white repression. And the fact is that many
police do reflect and express these white attitudes," leading to
the feeling among black people "in the existence of police
brutality and in a 'double standard' of justice and protection -- one
for Negroes and one for whites." Pointing to aggressive policing
tactics in the black community as a source of hostility and the
absence of mechanisms to address complaints, the commission
recommended recruitment and promotion of officers of color, and other
measures to eliminate bad practices, ease tensions and ensure proper
police conduct and community support for the police.
Influenced
by the civil rights and Black Power movements, black officers across
the country formed their own police associations, separate from
white-dominated organizations, which exist to this day. The Fraternal
Order of Police
endorsed
Donald
Trump, but black police associations
did
not,
demonstrating that the debate over race and policing is not a simple
Black Lives Matter vs. Blue Lives Matter issue.
Today,
implicit bias and institutional racism infect a society that refuses
to come to terms on how America's original racial sins still
influence how the public -- and police officers -- perceive black
people. Popular racial stereotypes that portray black people as
dangerous, threatening criminals seep into the public conscience and
the media, reinforcing some police officers' perceptions of black
children as older and more culpable than they are, and making it more
likely they will shoot black people to death. This is a problem for
everyone.
Atlanta
admits the role of implicit bias in the conversation. Police academy
recruits in Atlanta receive training in recognizing and challenging
implicit bias at the
Center
for Civil and Human Rights,
which Chief Shields says has allowed for candid conversations, made
officers aware of their beliefs, and has been eye-opening for white
officers in the
majority
black police force.
Another
participant in the conversation in Atlanta, Rev. Markel Hutchins of
Movement
Forward, Inc.
, believes that beyond training, at issue is what is in someone's
heart.
After
witnessing the tensions between the community and the police,
Hutchins decided to figure out a way to bring people together and get
to know each other, resulting in the OneCOP (One Congregation One
Precinct) program, which connects police agencies with diverse
congregations of all faiths, and creates partnerships on violence
prevention, sensitivity training, community safety and other matters.
"We will never bridge the divide...as long as we have this
notion that police are somehow separate and distinct and apart from
the rest of the community. Police officers' children go to school
with everybody else's children. They go to the church and the temple
with everyone else," Hutchins said.
This
one conversation in Atlanta is part of a much bigger one about how to
change things for the better. We will also see change when, as the
Movement
for Black Lives
advocates,
communities control the laws, policies and institutions impacting
them -- and when this nation invests in education, health and safety
rather than criminalizing, incarcerating and killing black people.
Change will not be easy, but it is certainly possible.
This
commentary was originally published by CNN
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