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Hello there, wide world web. It's been a minute. Not much has happened since I last posted (that's a lie). Life is slow (also a lie). Things are great (lie lie lie).
In all honesty, things have been rough - for me, for the world. The idea of posting about anything on this blog was overwhelming. Still is actually. But decided that maybe blogging is something that could be healing, helping me to process some of the things going on as well as practice the skill of speaking truth and not apologizing or panicking about it afterwards.
Here goes...
A couple of Fridays ago, I found myself on a busy Metra train during my commute home. The train was unusually crowded, but something was different this time. Passenger upon passenger was glued to their phones, anxiously looking out the windows, crowding each other, willing the train to leave Union Station. While the Metra line I ride is made up of predominantly white passengers this commute seemed to magnify that fact tenfold. Each passenger, in their own mind, was trying to escape the city.
See, what had happened about 30 minutes prior to this scene - nearly half the City of Chicago was "dismissed" from their work duties. Not those who work to keep the city running and clean and "normal" but those who work in the tall sky scrapers, physically removed from the grit and grime of Chicago. We had been excused because of the threat of riots - the Jason Van Dyke verdict was about to be read and the City was bracing for disaster. I'm still not entirely sure what we were bracing for - the verdict coming back that he was not guilty of murdering a young man (16 shots. In the back. Laquan held a knife. He was mentally ill.) and the anger would overtake the city (as it should), or that the verdict would come back that he was guilty and the celebrations would overtake the city. To me, it felt as if the city and authorities had already rendered the verdict: NOT GUILTY, and the white folks were escaping because they didn't want to get caught in the anger of the black community.
I found myself puzzled as to what the right thing to do was. Should I stay and be ready to be angry at the injustice - assume that people and government agencies and court systems are unjust? Should I assume that justice will be served? Should I add my voice to those celebrating the victory of a guilty verdict and yet calling for more? Should I take advantage of the early dismissal and go see my kids?
I left. I felt cowardly as I rode that train to my suburban oasis.
The verdict came down and Jason Van Dyke was found guilty of second degree murder as well as 16 counts of aggravated assault. He will most likely be in jail for the rest of his life. His life for Laquan's life. Seems fair. But is it?
I've been thinking a lot about this idea of actions having sweeping and life altering effects on a person. As I've watched the Brett Kavanaugh debacle unfold, I've been struck with the argument that a "mistake" this man made when he was in high school should not have far-reaching and life altering impact on his life. "He was just a kid." And then I have watched as the women in my life have told me the stories of assault that have single-handedly altered the trajectories of their lives/relationships/career choices, and I'm confused. I also look at the number of black men who make a "mistake" like playing with a toy gun, or wearing a hoodie, or telling a police officer that they have a gun in the glove box like they are supposed to when they are pulled over, or selling cigarettes on the corner, and that those mistakes have also single-handedly changed the course of their lives - they have been killed.
I'm confused about our commitment to life sentences.
Jason Van Dyke had over 20 complaints against him throughout his career as a police officer - complaints ranging from using excessive force to using racial slurs. All of them were acquitted. Jason Van Dyke was given over 20 instances of forgiveness without rectifying his behavior. Brett Kavanaugh had numerous complaints against him as well - mostly about his drinking and inappropriate behavior and treatment of women. He was given many instances of forgiveness without rectifying his behavior as well.
Our society is obsessed with coming to conclusions about people. That person is good, that person is evil, that person is liberal, that person is conservative, that person has a mental illness, that person is fat. We feel comfortable when we can summarize people. And God forbid we are falsely characterized - it can take years if ever to redefine yourself. And sometimes, those characteristics can predestine us to succeed or fail.
Somewhere along the way, Jason and Brett were deemed "good guys." And therefore, that stereotype worked in their favor, allowing them latitude to make mistakes and bend the rules. Somewhere along the way, Laquan Macdonald, Philando Castile, Sandra Bland, Walter Scott (and on and on), were deemed "bad." And honestly, that somewhere? Probably birth.
I don't pretend to know the answer to this, but I do know that living in a world of life convictions is scary and unfair and unjust. And these polarizing stereotypes only seem to be getting more pronounced. We are deeply divided and fearful of each other.
What if instead of coming to conclusions, we assumed good intent of everyone? Or what if we held each other accountable to mistakes that we know can cause serious damage in the future? What if one of Jason's colleagues had called him out about using racial slurs and educated him about how those words trigger people, the historical meaning behind them, and how language like that most likely means he has bias that can impact his ability to respond appropriately in high stress situations? Or what if one of Brett's friends made sure to walk him home after a long night of drinking, or what if one of the people who caught wind of his behavior confronted him about it at the time or informed an authority? Told him that talking about women in such a derogatory tone could impact his ability to fairly judge in a courtroom. What if we each felt the responsibility to correct behavior?
In our family, when one of our kids breaks a rule, we have a menu of "punishments" that we decide upon using given the situation. We send the kids to time out, take away a coin from their piggy banks, limit use of tv for a week, etc. But we always have a conversation after the emotions have subsided. The conversation is centered around the "why" of the punishment and a commitment from both parties to do better in the future. Additionally, we ask the kids to seek out the person they have upset and apologize. This might seem elementary (it is), but I think our society stops too quickly. We either punish or don't punish. We don't have conversations, and we don't seek to right our wrongs against those we've harmed. We also rarely see things from another's perspective.
I rode that train home and walked into my safe and warm house and hugged my children - grateful to have avoided the commuting annoyances I was sure would come from the trial, but I also removed myself from a conversation about how to be a better member of society. I can be better - I can participate in those conversations with people about behaviors I know full well can lead to dangerous and unhealthy situations. I can also work to stop falsely characterizing others as checking off boxes 1,2, or 3. We are multi-faceted beings that are filled with complexities and contradictions, we owe it to each other to learn more and to speak truth when something has the potential to harm.
Maybe next time, I'll wait for a later train.
