The promise of humanity: Redemption that goes beyond police reform

This commentary is going to be a challenge – for me, first and foremost. The challenge is to see George Floyd’s death and everything that follows it in a holistic fashion.

I didn’t watch the video of Derek Chauvin’s murderous act. I didn’t watch Mr. Floyd succumbing to the pressure of Mr. Chauvin’s knee on his neck for more than nine minutes.

I didn’t have to watch it. I’d seen it all before – and saw myself, a Black man, in those scenarios.

The visceral pain from that viral video turned into protests – not just in Minnesota or the United States, but all over the world. I marched alongside folks and even organized a protest in my hometown. And I watched firsthand as a day of anti-police sentiment in Columbia, South Carolina, received a militarized response from the city.

Again, the challenge is to see this moment – and moments – holistically. It’s not about me, but us. Our perpetual response to Mr. Floyd’s death is what makes this moment, and everything that comes afterward, so important.

When I heard that a verdict had been reached in Mr. Chauvin’s trial, I thought about that moment – this moment – in its entirety. I understood that we were still in a fight to honor the lives of Breonna Taylor, Rayshard Brooks, Sandra Bland, Daunte Wright, and too many others. I also knew what a guilty verdict would mean to a nation – a world – that watched with tired yet vigilant eyes.

The presence of justice

The guilty verdict for Mr. Chauvin was humanizing. That sentiment poured through the screen and my social media feeds when the verdict was announced – guilty on all three charges. People cried. People shouted. People fainted in the presence of justice. 

What followed were promises and proclamations of redemption, and while I respect those claims, the ultimate feeling from Tuesday’s verdict for many was relief.

That relief wasn’t just from the residual pain felt for the names I mentioned earlier – and so many more. It was relief in the face of a judicial system that many people still feel isn’t just. The mere presence of justice was progress.

I’ve often thought about the humanity lost in these times – not just the loss of life, but the loss of living. The burden Black people face in the most common of situations with the police is not just the fear of losing one’s life, but the chance of being treated as less than human. While the restoration of humanity might start with a single verdict, it requires so much more than that decision.

True redemption begins when we prioritize and give power to the people as a whole. In this context, I am speaking about Black people, but I understand that people of various backgrounds and races have legitimate feelings about the overreaches of policing. Many of those conversations can start on a local level, where municipalities and cities appropriate significant portions of their tax dollars – more than 50% in some cases – to funding the police. 

That is the great irony of the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act, which will undoubtedly receive a boost from the result of Tuesday’s verdict. As much as the legislation demands accountability related to racial bias in policing, police misconduct, and excessive force, it also pours a heaping helping of funding ($750 million, to be exact) into an already well-funded entity. And while it’s true that those additional funds would support independent prosecutions of officers using deadly force, that doesn’t get to the heart of the problem. True redemption would redistribute wealth toward efforts like health care and housing that help everyday people.

The promise of humanity

I am thinking about George Floyd, the man, now. I’m thinking about him independent of his actions the night he died and of Mr. Chauvin’s actions. I’m thinking about him moving to Minneapolis to get his life together, as Mr. Floyd’s friend and former NBA player Stephen Jackson told ABC News.

“He was excited to tell me he was driving trucks and he was going to Minnesota and start over – get a new start,” Mr. Jackson said.

It reminds me of the plans that Breonna Taylor and her fiancé, Kenneth Walker, had before tragedy struck.

Theirs are promises unrealized. But in this moment and the moments ahead, we have an opportunity to realize ours.

The promise of redemption must include more than the promise of police reform. It has to include the promise of opportunity for everyone. At the very least, it has to include the promise of humanity.

Ken Makin is the host of the “Makin’ A Difference” podcast.