No one would honestly say America was in a great place before May 25, 2020. But on that day, the death of one man changed it forever.
by Mauve Maude
June 13, 2021
It’s hard to believe it’s been one year since the murder of George Floyd.
Some might say it seems like it was yesterday. Some might say it’s felt like at least two years. Some might say both, depending on the day. For Darnella Frazier, who was just awarded a special citation by the Pulitzer Board for filming the infamous Memorial Day murder, a year ago would be a lifetime away.
Nevertheless, 365 days ago our whole country and the world had erupted in visceral protest, and as is indicated by such flashpoint moments, it was headed for change. It remains to be seen how far that change will take us. After all, we’ve had these moments before. The need for another one was self-evident when George Floyd’s life was taken, and it likely will be evident again. The country as a whole has seen little significant movement toward police reform. But America won’t soon forget 2020, especially the young, who can’t remember any other moment like it.
It at least seems that it’s no longer possible to ignore racism without a pointed effort. For most non-White Americans, it’s never been possible. For a great many White Americans, who possibly were previously able to passively overlook it, it took that nine-minute video, to set off major alarm bells in their psyches. Government employees should not be allowed to summarily execute citizens (or non-citizens) in the street, no matter what their crime (or alleged crime), much less as smugly and as confidently as Derek Chauvin did.
This realization shouldn’t have anything to do with race. But our country is not what it should be, not exactly. The divisions we complain about didn’t begin with modern-day media. They have firmly planted roots, and they persist, with careful cultivation. Every discussion our country has ever had about racism has been an attempt to rip those roots up and plant something new, something that would set it as it should be. The most recent of discussions, that of the last several years, has revolved around the concept that Black lives should be treated in as much as they matter. It isn’t enough to smugly say that all lives do. It’s about real and active treatment, listening for starters. These recent discussions have explored the last several years, and also decades and centuries before them. Black lives, in this country, have never been treated as lives that matter, as White lives always have. Black Americans have been screaming this for years and years and years. On May 25, 2020, it seems that screaming some White Americans have been hearing in their backgrounds–unable to quite locate, unable to quite make out–they finally found, hearing it loud and clear, from right in front of them. What happened to George Floyd never would have happened to a White man, not at the hands of the police, not confidently, before God, bystanders, cameras, and everybody. It was and is clear. America doesn’t value Black lives, and our justice system enforces it. And it can’t go on.
Of course, even after George Floyd, it didn’t take long before the “divisions” appeared. Where initially some, who normally aligned themselves with the position of the police, expressed dismay they couldn’t ignore over the cold, nonchalant extinguishing of George Floyd’s life by Derek Chauvin, as soon as any sign of rioting, looting, or civil disobedience appeared, they recovered their ability to ignore. Riots and looting served as a ticket out of conscience, and for those who tendered their tickets, Black America was quickly blamed for it. That was allowed. Pretty soon, the plight of those who loved George Floyd, those speaking up for George Floyd, and those who could be George Floyd, was subject to tasteless open mockery in some circles, and it’s still mocked today. The plight also stirred great anger in some. Protesters and rioters had become, suddenly and conveniently, synonymous enemies. Or so it would seem, judging from the mediasphere–though I saw evidence of this in my own town. To some, protest and Black Lives Matter very quickly came to mean anti-police rioters, terrorists, Antifa, and socialists trying to take over the country–and also, the Left. And for others, anyone who opposed riots came to equate anti-Black racists–and also, the Right. (At least until January 6, 2021.) By the end of last June, the (45th) President would be holding a Juneteenth rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, of all places, during a pandemic, of all times, and though many were horrified, many others would applaud him for it. If the 2020 election wasn’t already a referendum on racism, it certainly was after that.
With these and months of other events, an easy dividing line between for and against was forged, naturally, so we wouldn’t have to study the more nuanced definitions and intermingling blends of: peaceful protesters, anti-racists, socialists, non-peaceful protesters, rioters, looters, anarchists, counter-protesters, fascists, and legitimate white supremacists. They were all in there; it was anything but simple. Unfortunately, easy dividing lines make it easy for messages to get lost, if people want to lose them. And the message, though immensely important, was very simply this: Black and brown people should be served and protected by our nation’s police every bit as much as White people are. If White Americans aren’t being practically murdered on sight by the police (which, of course, no one should be), then it shouldn’t be happening to Black Americans on a regular basis. And yet, it continues.
A year after George Floyd, Derek Chauvin has gotten some of his due–conviction–with virtually, and understandably, no public objection. Here is where we must defy complacency. Though the conversation goes on, it’s still safe to say Americans on either side have begun to lose that original message.
At this point, it is a matter of effortful ignorance, for which each of us must be held accountable. Twenty-first century America, as a whole, focused hard on racism, for the better part of a year, and longer. Many of us still are. We all know it persists. We all know it’s wrong. There are no more accidents.
So now it’s just about action. Who’s doing something productive toward stopping it? Who’s just being lazy? Who’s owning it? And who’s trying their damnedest to keep pretending it’s not a thing?