I'm on a bit of a posting spree, as usual I have PLENTY TO POST. I just don't have time to do it all. I'm only posting now because I'm taking a break from typing on From Child to Man. I literally JUST CAME ACROSS THIS JUST NOW and decided to post it just so you could read it for yourselves and then hash it out. I'm certainly not gonna yap too much, because the article speaks for itself. Here you go;
Why Cleveland Didn’t Burn
By Rebecca McCray | Takepart.com4 hours agoTakepart.comFor years, Americans have been engaged in a deep, often painful conversation about how local law enforcement authorities interact with our country’s most vulnerable citizens, particularly black males. And for good reason: Black people in the U.S. are more than twice as likely than whites to be unarmed when killed during encounters with police, as a new investigation by The Guardian has found.
This isn’t a particularly new conversation. But it has certainly gained traction since last summer, with the fatal shooting of Michael Brown, an unarmed black teenager, at the hands of a Ferguson, Missouri, police officer. Eric Garner’s death turned our attention to New York City’s police department. And Freddie Gray’s death in April triggered days of unrest in Baltimore.
The city of Cleveland has consistently popped onto our radar. Last week, the city’s police department agreed to unusually stringent oversight by the U.S. Justice Department. The agreement comes after the Justice Department initiated an investigation into the department’s use of force against civilians following the fatal police shooting of Tamir Rice, a 12-year-old black boy, last summer. Tanisha Anderson, a 37-year-old black woman, died in Cleveland police custody. The city reckoned again with its strained police-community relations after a judge ruled last month that police officer Michael Brelo was acquitted of manslaughter charges for the shooting deaths of Malissa Williams and Timothy Russell, both African Americans.
Understandably, Cleveland residents—like many Americans—are angry.
It’s important to remember that there are key people in cities driving positive change. One of them in Cleveland is 30-year-old Basheer Jones. Born in New York, Jones moved with his mother to Cleveland as a child. For years, he bounced between an aunt’s house and a homeless shelter. He persevered, studying at Morehouse College and Howard University. Then he returned to Cleveland, helped register voters ahead of the 2008 presidential race, and hosted a radio show. He is, in many ways, one of the leading voices of Cleveland, and of black America.
TakePart recently talked with Jones about Cleveland, community leaders, and managing law enforcement’s relationship with citizens. Here’s an edited excerpt from that conversation.
TakePart: How and why did you become an activist?
Basheer Jones: When I was younger, I would watch the news and just start crying, angry at the injustice. I sometimes acted out. My father wasn’t in my life, and my mother was gone for a while. So my high school basketball coach—whom I briefly lived with—encouraged me to recite the poems I wrote at school and festivals he took me to. So, poetry was the start of my activism. Doors started opening, and I kept writing. When we came to Cleveland, I didn’t understand having to live in a homeless shelter, and with family members. But I’m thankful for it because it has allowed me to be who I am today. When you go through those types of struggles, you’re able to deal with anything.
TP: What’s the current mood in Cleveland? And what is the community perception of the Department of Justice’s report and agreement with the police department?
Jones: People are angry. But people are in poverty and just trying to survive. There’s not a lot of surprise. It’s really bad when you live in a society in which people are not even expecting justice. A lot of people feel like they can’t do anything to make change. But a lot of other people are working to do something about that. The work is going to continue because of Tamir Rice. With the Republican National Convention [Cleveland will host the 2016 RNC convention] and the city council race coming up, what’s going on now is more political than anything. We may have needed the DOJ to do a consent decree. But we didn’t need a study to show us that police have been excessively forceful. We’ve been going through this for a long time.
TP: What was it like in the community in the days after Tamir Rice’s death?
Jones: I was out of the country when it happened, and when I heard the news, I just cried and cried. When I got back to Cleveland, I went around the community and just talked to the people. There was sadness, but also an extreme anger, particularly from the men. A lot of women were saying, “Can we not be protected in our own communities? Can our children not be protected?” It brought a certain solider mentality out of the men.
TP: What do you think about the city’s investigation—which is ongoing—into Rice’s death?
Jones: I’m not optimistic at all. After going through this with Malissa Williams and Timothy Russell, I’m not optimistic about any of these cases. [Williams and Russell] were basically massacred, and the officer got off. I’m even less optimistic about Tamir, because he had a BB gun. He still hasn’t been buried. His mother left her home because she could not stand to live next to where her son was killed.
TP: What was the city like when Williams and Russell were killed?
Jones: If there was ever a time when this city could’ve become like Baltimore, it was then. People were very, very angry. This was before Mike Brown died [in Ferguson]. No one was talking about it. The national media wasn’t discussing it. Maybe they would have if we had burned things to the ground. People felt hopeless and angry. That’s the scary thing: When people feel hopeless, it’s worse than chemical warfare. It’s like a ticking bomb when you see yourself constantly losing.
We live in a society where the referees continue to say, “Bad shot. You lost, you lost, you lost—in the educational system, and the justice system.”
TP: What sets Cleveland apart from cities like Baltimore and Ferguson—why has there been relative calm compared to these other places where black men have been killed by the police?
Jones: Cleveland has a very different dynamic than Baltimore and Ferguson. It’s a full inner city, but it’s kind of spread out. When I organized marches recently, I had to do five different marches to reach every area. Ferguson is extremely small, and a lot of what happened came from outsiders who came to protest. The racial dynamics are also very different, between the majority of the community being black and the majority of police officers white. Cleveland was one of the first major cities to have a black mayor. We have a majority black city, majority black city council, and a black chief of police. A lot of the black people who have been in power have been put in these places to keep people calm.
TP: What have you done to help maintain calm? And what’s helped keep the peace in the midst of these crises?
Jones: It’s not the politicians who keep calm, because people don’t trust them. It’s not the police, because people are afraid of them. It’s community members: those guys who were drug dealers, gang members, and people on the street involved with crime who have reformed. It’s the community activists who’ve been around and say, “I understand you’re angry, I’m angry too, but burning it down won’t solve anything.” You can’t diminish people’s anger. When you do that, that’s when people don’t want anything to do with you. It all boils down to trust. People say, “Basheer, we trust you because you haven’t let us down.”
I’m working to get everyone registered to vote. If you want a real uprising, you need to teach your brothers and sisters how to read. You want a revolution? Let’s start a revolution of the mind. Literacy is freedom. We can’t stop people from being racist. But the system shouldn’t support racist acts. If you’re uncomfortable talking about black issues, then you shouldn’t be here. If you’re uncomfortable talking and hearing about it, imagine how we feel living it.
TP: What lessons does Cleveland hold for other cities that that are likely to face a fatal shooting by police?
Jones: People look to Cleveland and say, “Wow, you guys did really well.” But it’s almost condescending to me, because maybe we didn’t burn it down, but maybe that’s not because we’re so conscious but because we’re unconscious. People are so hopeless that they don’t think anything will work. I’m not saying I want things to burn down. I want to see more anger. We have to be mindful of the expression of anger. Anger can bring about change. Is Cleveland an example of what it looks like to manage people’s anger in the right way? Maybe. But maybe it’s also a sign that a city and its leadership has managed the people so well that they’re asleep.
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