Police brutality victims don't need to be blamed, they need support
The footage is, in short, cringe-worthy.
As a 16-year-old Spring Valley High School student sits at her desk, former Columbia, South Carolina, school resource officer Ben Fields approaches her, stands over the student for a moment, and proceeds to yank her backwards, causing the student’s desk to topple as the teenager is then slid several feet across the classroom floor. Several students record the events as they unfold, while others avert their eyes, hoping to avoid Fields’ rage; irrespective of their reactions, however, everyone in the room is noticeably stunned.
But while more recent incidents have served to illustrate the level of aggression some law enforcement officers are willing to engage in – ranging from severe beatings to fatal shootings – there are still many who find little to no fault with Fields’ or any other offending officers’ actions, choosing instead to blame the injured party for instigating the assault, as opposed to assigning culpability to the officer, the deserving party.
It’s a twisted form of victim-blaming that tends to take place when instances of police brutality occur, and the incident in Columbia, South Carolina, is but a recent example of this. It speaks to the latitude many are willing to grant police officers with regard to the use of excessive force – ignoring the context of the situation in an effort to highlight the ways in which the victim could have avoided the assault, namely through compliance.
In short, many have gotten too comfortable with letting bad officers off of the proverbial hook by instead shifting the focus towards what the victim may have done to invite the violence. Bruised and bloodied, victims are met with a hint of suspicion regarding their injuries. That the perpetrator of brutality is a member of law enforcement shouldn’t lessen anyone’s outrage, though. Victim blaming is never acceptable.
Acceptable Violence
It’s a common thread found in many of the instances of excessive force involving law enforcement personnel over the past few years.
“The officer was in danger” many often say, though, on several occasions, the suspect posed no immediate threat to the officer or the community.
Following the above-mentioned statement, typically, is an offered solution as to how the victim could have avoided being pummeled, shot, or even killed – “Well, if you just wouldn’t break the rules…”
As if the automatic consequence of disobeying authority is serious physical injury.
It’s as if certain pockets of society have become so comfortable with state-sanctioned violence that they’ve come to engage in what can best be described as “police worship,” that is, the belief that individuals in their capacity as officers can do no wrong.
More likely, however, is that those within these pockets are more comfortable with violence if it is being directed at people of color, specifically children and teens of color, who have come to be dehumanized and viewed beyond their age throughout history.
In an interview with Politico magazine following the November 2014 shooting death of 12-year-old Cleveland boy, Tamir Rice, by officers, Cleveland Police Patrolman’s Association president, Steve Loomis stated, in reference to Rice, “He’s menacing. He’s 5-feet-7, 191 pounds. He wasn’t that little kid you’re seeing in pictures. He’s a 12-year-old in an adult body.”
This after the officer arrived at the scene and shot Rice dead within two seconds – not enough time for young Rice to react, generously assuming that he was given any sort of warning at all. In the following weeks, many in the public would point to Rice’s carrying of the toy gun as the reason he was killed by officers, despite Ohio being an “open-carry” state. A grand jury is currently deciding whether to charge the officer involved, though two October 10 reports released by the prosecutor overseeing the case could distort the process, as the reports conclude that the officer who fired the fatal shots acted within the law.
The narrative can also be found in the case of Texas teen Dajerria Becton, who, while at a pool party, was slammed to the ground before having the arresting officer’s knee placed on her back. The former officer, Cpl. Eric Casebolt, has since resigned following the incident in which Mckinney, Texas, Police Chief Greg Conley deemed Casebolt’s behavior “out of control;” however, Casebolt was never arrested, nor were charges filed against him. The incident was similar to the case involving Rice, and many other adults and children of color, as a rather vocal minority cited Becton’s defiance as the cause of the officer’s aggression. “If she had just” became the words which would begin what was sure to an asinine statement, as if there exists a proper way to avoid abuse. The idea of respectability politics, in itself, is repulsive. It’s more repulsive when people of color are expected to behave in a way that society deems “acceptable” so as not to face physical harm.
Like other people of color who have been subject to excessive force by law enforcement, the Spring Valley High School student could have done nothing to prevent what happened to her. No, she could have not “just followed the rules.” No, she could have not “just left the classroom like she was asked to do.”
To say that she – or any other person – could have done anything to prevent being the victim of police violence would be nothing short of condoning brutality at the hands of law enforcement.
Victims need your support – not your lessons.
Brian C. Bush is a law student with an interest surrounding the interplay between race, gender, culture, and the law. Connect with him on Twitter@BrianCBush
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