This article was written by Steve Ross. You can find the original and more great content on his personal blog site.
I just watched a(nother) unarmed man get gunned down, retreated from, and left to suffer and die. This time with a bird’s eye view; swirling overhead like a vulture waiting for death. Eerily I listened, as the pilot of a helicopter pronounces a resolute verdict over a man created in the image of the God he’s posing as. Over radio from the sky, he calls out that “it’s time for tasing,” and continues playing judge: “He looks like a baaad dude too.”
Why does law enforcement employ overhead assistance? To better assess the overall situation, and communicate an objective big picture perspective of what’s happening to those on the ground. This time, however the man up above (pun) took to radio and zeros in on the details.. “[he must] be on something (implying drug abuse).” Moments later, the female officer who we later come to know as the wife of one of our narrating-pilots, sends back communication: “SHOTS FIRED!”
Watching and listening to this murder unfold is unbearable and sickening. Terence Crutcher was having car trouble. As reported, “Crutcher’s SUV had stalled in the middle of the road, and police arrived to check on the situation. As they approached the vehicle, a black male started towards them.”
I’m so tired of hearing how my skin makes me dangerous. I’m trying to piece together how Terence’s car breaking down on the way home from class resulted in his death. Officer Betty said (before contradicting video footage) that it was because she “asked him to show his hands and he refused to follow commands.” Not surprisingly this isn’t reflected on camera.
“He continued not to listen and not follow any commands,” she says. Going further with her story, “He reached inside the vehicle, and at that time, there was a Taser deployment and then…there was one shot fired.” Is that what took place?
More than just the shooting, what’s telling time and time again is the way these victims are left to lay in the street without any assistance or medical attention. Recently, I was speaking to a non-black co-worker about the incidents who said, “It’s like they’re not even human.”
It’s like they’re not even human.
Shaun King wrote a very insightful article on NY Daily News expressing this very fact. After police confronted the man who bombed New York and New Jersey neighborhoods, and planted eight other bombs, Rahami pulled out a handgun, shot two of the officers, and began running away. Moments later he was apprehended, and given medical treatment. Can African-Americans get some Ahmad Khan Rahami treatment?
At this point, I feel I can go no further. Ahmad was indeed armed and dangerous. Some of the more recent police shooting victims were indeed involved in criminal activity. In this situation, however, I’m staring at what could easily be my own fate.
I commute 3 hours a day across Los Angeles in an 18 y/o car with 180,xxx miles on the dash. In recent weeks, I’ve had flat tires, an overheated engine, and power steering failure. I am #TerenceCrutcher. Stranded on the wrong road, in need of assistance, I could come face to face with the reality that, all too often because of my skin, I’m seen as (un)Armed and dangerous.
I looked all 7 of my children in the eyes tonight and told them I’m boldly willing to die – so they can live without fear. I’m grieved by the reality that judged from the wrong person’s perspective, my skin makes me a threat and an evil — better to rid the earth of than a person to be valued and honored – let alone protected and served. At this point, it’s taking nothing short of faith the size of a mustard seed to believe that the good law enforcement officers in America aren’t a minority like I am.
My skin makes me a threat and an evil…better to be rid of than a person to be valued and honored.
I mourn at the sight of innocent men who look just like me being mowed down with gunfire – even in front of their children, and there is rarely justice exacted. I am wearied because my lament is more often met with dismissal and condemnation than compassion.
Pray for my strength. I could rattle off more verses by memory than I’d have time to list here; and believe me I have been and continue to rehearse them in preaching to myself. But this isn’t the time to gloss over the systemic issues of injustice that are embedded in our society by over spiritualizing a blog post. This is a call to action.
I need prayer; but I also need help.
I need people who don’t feel my pain to believe me when I say it hurts.
Anglo, and especially Christian, friends, I need you to stand with us. Do not be silent about these issues. We need you to speak up for those of us who feel we can’t do more than weep.
My life is spent promoting and striving for God honoring, Christ exalting, unity across ethnic lines and cultural distinctions. It is far from my desire to be divisive. I want to be heard and helped. I cannot do this alone and I am not. I speak for many who put their jobs, reputations, and even lives on the line by preaching and living out the barrier breaking power of the gospel. We’re battling sin in situations but we’re also at war with it systemically. We need more soldiers.
To read the rest of Steve Ross’ article,