Kali Roberge

In Our Silence, We Are Complicit

Kali Roberge
In Our Silence, We Are Complicit
 

I am incredibly lucky to have a home where my family is safe and secure and happy. Having a beautiful house on acres of land is a gift enough, but my privilege extends far, far beyond owning my own property.

That safety, that security, that comfort that comes with being able to reasonably believe everything is gonna be already comes with us wherever we go because we are white. Not everyone gets that kind of protection. Not everyone gets the benefit of the doubt that they are inherently a good person who would not do any harm.

Not everyone has the privilege to mouth off at a police officer and get away with it — as I have done in the past. Was this the “right” thing to do? A smart thing? Certainly not, on either count. And yet I know I have done this: During traffic stops in which I’ve been on the receiving end of sarcastic or degrading comments intended to provoke. After being approached by a police officer clearly looking to take something out on someone, who was immediately angry and yelling — and I hate being yelled at. Yell at me and I won’t just match your intensity; I will look to exponentially top it.

So yes, there have been times that either out of fear or blind anger (or both), I have taken the bait and snapped back at a cop or raised my voice to match the energy that came at me.

We can dissect the details of the times this happened in the past; we can debate about whether or not I had a right to react the way I did. You can say talking back to a cop is always wrong; disrespectful. You can think I was merely defending myself from a police officer who was clearly out of line.

I don’t care. Because it all misses the point.

The point is I’m a white woman, and whether stupidly or justifiably, I was protected in those situations by the fact my being killed in an altercation with a cop is almost laughably improbable.⁠ When I snapped back or raised my voice, I wasn't hauled out of my car or pushed to the ground. I wasn't choked or shot to death. I got a (well-deserved) traffic ticket one time but otherwise, every time I’ve engaged with a police officer, I also got to go about my day with no other consequence.

George Floyd and so many others could not have been so lucky, because black lives do not seem to matter very much in this country.

Black lives do matter. Black lives should matter. Yet the statistics tell us starkly, they do not.

Black lives are being prematurely ended by irresponsible, inhumane policing. Black lives are disproportionately affected by poor police training, decision-making, and enforcement. More black people are killed in these encounters than you would statistically expect.⁠

If you are a white person — or any person who responds to the idea that Black Lives Matter with a defensive “all lives matter” — you need to reacquaint yourself with reality. Do not turn away from it; watch the video. Listen to George Floyd ask for help. Then listen to the absence of his voice.⁠

If you will not watch the video, then read a description of what happens in the footage:

Over four minutes, Floyd repeatedly cries out “I can’t breathe,” until he becomes unresponsive. Three other officers stand by, ignoring the requests of bystanders to check on Floyd’s breathing. And for several minutes after Floyd appears to stop breathing, Chauvin keeps his knee on his neck, until paramedics arrive to carry his body into an ambulance.

If you “are tired of reading about racism, trust me when I say this— I’m tired of writing about it,” said LZ Granderson. And his article is absolutely one you should read, no matter how “tired” you are.

If me talking about this — if reading these posts, articles, and stories — makes you uncomfortable… my God, it should. Feeling uncomfortable or even tired is nothing compared to how you should feel.

Sick. Physically ill. Heartbroken. Buried by the realization of what it is like to walk through this country as a black person who must constantly wonder if their names, or their family member’s name, or their friend’s name, is the next one we will be saying as protests against police violence and brutality break out across the country.

If you're "shocked" by yet another story like this one, wake up. If you think this doesn't matter because it doesn't directly affect you (or people who look like you), get some humanity. And if you're deeply troubled by this but staying silent, don't.

We failed George Floyd. Just like we failed Ahmaud Arbery, Philando Castile, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, and countless, countless others. We will continue to fail our fellow citizens, our fellow human beings, if we do not speak out and act.

If you still hesitate to do or say anything, then you are no longer failing others. You are complicit in their killings.

Speak up. Ask questions. And act. We cannot sit complacent or silent as people are killed at the hands of law enforcement officials who were sworn to protect and serve. Instead, that law enforcement wrongfully stole their lives.

We are all responsible for demanding accountability when power is abused, justice is miscarried, and our fellow citizens are mistreated. Speak out, then act. If you are not sure what you can do, here are two organizations that offer resources to those who want to join the fight for justice, and could use your support in whatever way you can provide it:

Equal Justice Initiative | Innocence Project

There are countless other organizations, individuals, and movements that you can support. These are two that mean a lot to me and do incredible work.

#justiceforgeorgefloyd