Ferguson.
When you say the name of the town, you don’t visualize its typical well-maintained streets, or see its charming Citywalk Fountain, or imagine its cute-as-a-button historic railroad caboose exhibit over by the library. You don’t see in your mind’s eye the fire department using firehoses to let the kids play in the cool water on a hot summer day, or watch the old folks digging or weeding in the community garden, or mentally cheer on the hundreds of people who race in the annual twilight run held in May. You can’t imagine the honor ceremony held for public school students just a week ago, and you don’t know that the farmer’s market just closed for the season a few weeks back.
In short, we don’t and can’t think of Ferguson as an American town like any other, even though it clearly is. Instead, we will see Ferguson forever as a symbol of racial tension made manifest in the shooting death of black, unarmed teenager Michael Brown, by white Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson.
Forever, we will see Ferguson in the flames of anger and injustice.
And the reason for that is as old as a Constitution that allowed the population of people who looked like Michael Brown to be reckoned by three-fifths, while the population of people who looked like Darren Wilson to be considered persons in their own right.
The reason is as old as a Declaration of Independence that didn’t specifically say that the Browns of this world are independent and free, and the Wilsons of this world had to do their own work in their fields and orchards and foundries.
Our founding fathers made some tragic mistakes, mistakes that are still, even now, reverberating in the chants of “No justice, no peace” on Ferguson’s firelit nighttime streets.
We weren’t in on the proceedings that led to the grand jury’s decision not to indict Darren Wilson, and they may have made a perfectly appropriate decision in this case.
It doesn’t matter. Because the anger in the hot blood flowing in Ferguson’s streets is founded on a reality, a history, a context. Whether Darren Wilson was justified in shooting an unarmed teen or not, it happened within that context, a context that police and other persons in positions of authority need to understand and come to terms with.
Ferguson isn’t the first place where black teens and children are considered guilty and can be slaughtered at will by someone who thinks a hoodie is a dangerous weapon, or a bag of candy is a gun, or a toy is a murder weapon. But if we are willing to work together, perhaps it can be the last.
Yes, the Civil War was fought over slavery. Yes, African Americans, brought to this nation in chains, are the legal equals today of any man. No, nobody should lose their life because a white person wants to stand his ground, or decides that his “ fear” trumps another person’s right to live.
Police, especially, need to stand down. Work must be done to make sure that those in positions of authority understand the context in which they are viewed by a distrustful society.
And more importantly, the face of that authority needs to change. Ferguson should commit to hiring people of color in the police department in the same ratio as the population. African Americans need to commit to running for office and remaining in office to effect change.
Juries and grand juries should not automatically give a cop a pass. Owning a badge doesn’t automatically justify homicide, but last year, there were 461 police shootings — and almost all of them were judged to be “ justifiable.” That standard must change.
Comments are not available on this story. Read more about why we allow commenting on some stories and not on others.
We believe it's important to offer commenting on certain stories as a benefit to our readers. At its best, our comments sections can be a productive platform for readers to engage with our journalism, offer thoughts on coverage and issues, and drive conversation in a respectful, solutions-based way. It's a form of open discourse that can be useful to our community, public officials, journalists and others.
We do not enable comments on everything — exceptions include most crime stories, and coverage involving personal tragedy or sensitive issues that invite personal attacks instead of thoughtful discussion.
You can read more here about our commenting policy and terms of use. More information is also found on our FAQs.
Show less