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What George Floyd taught me

Updated: Jun 8, 2020

George Floyd's alleged murder at the hands of a policeman caused me to grow up some more. First, the reason I say "alleged". A jury will decide whether or not it was legally a murder. I would not be eligible to serve on that jury because I've already decided that it was. But I acknowledge there has not been a conviction - yet. Second, whatever the jury finds, there can be no doubt that the policemen involved betrayed an oath that is common in law enforcement and George Floyd's life was taken without a trial (or indeed any due process whatsoever.)


Now, about the "growing up": I grew up because I came to realize that those of us who are missing the proverbial "racist bone" in our body are nevertheless not fully healed from the racism cancer. Here's why: we want to have our cake and eat it, too. We want to love everyone and expect everyone else to eventually come around to love everyone, too.


But, George Floyd, dying alone on the ground under that policeman's knee taught me that I can't have it both ways. I wanted to love everyone and I want to believe that "it" - the cure for racism - is easy. Well, it's not. It's hard. It's hard and it's sweaty and it's uncomfortable and it might even be dangerous.


That's what I learned.


But I also learned that it's worth the toil and the sweat and the discomfort. If I can prevent one more police brutality, I intend to do it. I'm listening and I'm watching. I'm pulling over to keep a respectful but watchful eye on traffic stops. And, I'm filming as appropriate.



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