When the news of Walter Scott’s death surfaced, I waited a few days before I watched the entire video which shows South Carolina police officer Michael Slager shoot toward Scott eight times as he ran away.
I debated internally on whether to watch the video because in actuality, I knew I would be watching someone die. What sane person wants to see that? I also asked myself if I really want to see yet another Black man die at the hands of a police officer—those individuals who we’ve been told since early childhood would “protect and serve” us.
Who was Slager protecting as he gunned down fleeing 50-year-old Scott in an isolated field?
During my days of deliberation, I was reminded of the importance to bear witness—if for no other reason than my job as the leader of a newspaper tasked with truthfully educating the public.
It was important for me to bear witness to Scott’s death because the Indianapolis Recorder Newspaper has a responsibility to document history, despite the level of difficulty involved in gathering pertinent information, to be purveyors of truth.
As I watched what would eventually be disclosed as five bullets actually landing on Scott, one in the ear and four in the back, I kept wondering what goes through the mind of a killer. As that officer shot Scott, who was not jeopardizing that officer’s life, what was he thinking?
Those were the same thoughts that invaded my mind during the summer of 2011 when I had the duty of bearing witness to the death of another Black man. Then, it was James Craig Anderson and the city was Jackson, Miss. Anderson was accosted by a group of 10 caucasians who specifically searched the urban area for a Black person to attack. Their primary targets were drunks or homeless people who would be less likely to report the crime. As I watched the video I saw members of the group attack Anderson—beating him profusely before they viciously ran him over—first backing the truck up to gain momentum then lurching it forward to hit their target.
Anderson’s sister interceded to ask that her brother’s murderers be spared the death penalty. She wrote in her letter: “They also have caused our family unspeakable pain and grief. But our loss will not be lessened by the state taking the life of another… We also oppose the death penalty because it historically has been used in Mississippi and the South primarily against people of color for killing whites. Executing James’ killers will not help balance the scales. But sparing them may help spark a dialogue that one day will lead to the elimination of capital punishment.”
I often swerve if I see a dead opossum on a side street and there are no other cars in sight. I don’t think I’m unusual. Rather, I believe it takes a cruel monster—a sociopath— to intentionally run over a human being.
Instances like the aforementioned have roots in deep-seated hatred. As over-analytical as I tend to be, I deduce that nothing but hatred seems to be the genesis of this inhumane treatment.
So back to bearing witness. I realize very little will get accomplished or change for the better if we don’t bear witness to the ills of this world, specifically in America. This is why individuals like Faiden Santana and Ramsey Orta are so courageous and inspirational. Santana and Orta used their cell phones to record videos of the deaths of Walter Scott and Eric Garner, respectively. Garner died last year after law enforcement officials placed him in a chokehold that ultimately suffocated him.
In my view, Santana and Orta and others like them are citizen journalists whose efforts helped expose the brutality many in the Black community endure. In the instance of Walter Scott, Santana’s video contradicted claims officer Slager initially made.
The only way to institute true change in one’s quest toward equality rights and protection is to continuously expose injustice—be it through social media, newspapers, of individual actions like reporting maltreatment or malicious intent.
We must keep injustice at the forefront of our consciousness and we must continually work toward closing the gap of treatment between them and us, whether that “them and us,” are minorities and non-minorities, heterosexual or homosexual individuals, police or civilians, or even male and female.
