Why I Kneel: Freedom of Expression Includes the Right to Protest

Like many Americans, military service is a tradition in my family. My mother, father, step-father, older brother and both of my uncles all served in the US military. My parents served in wartime. My father in Korea, my step-father in Vietnam and my mother served in Saudi Arabia during Desert Shield and Storm.

I am a veteran, but I am not a hero. I served in the US Air Force Reserves from 1997 until 2003. I joined during peacetime for the college money, served with distinction, earning several commendations, but left the service in 2003 because I liked the idea of finishing college more than I liked the idea of going to fight in a war that I didn’t believe in.

I love my country, but I went to the James Baldwin School of Patriotism. Baldwin wrote, “I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.” I am a patriot, not a nationalist. I love my country, but I see her flaws.

On Saturday, before the Seattle Sounders play the Whitecaps, I will be kneeling during the US National Anthem in Section 122. This is not a political act. This is a cry for help.

Every year I stand before my government class and we read and discuss the Founding documents of our nation: Jefferson’s Declaration, Madison’s Constitution, and Marshall’s early verdicts. Over the last few years the gap between the freedoms and equality enshrined in those documents and the reality my students face--particularly my students of color--has become increasingly apparent.

I understand why many people are upset about the protests, but I do not think there are “right” and “wrong” times to protest injustice. I believe and I teach my students that society isn’t improved by stifling dissent, but by engaging dissenters in dialogue. We’ve seen time after time in US history that periods where national unity is called for often mask harm to marginalized communities: the Alien Act of 1918 and the Sedition Act during World War I, the Japanese Internment during World War II and the Jim Crow South afterwards, and the fivefold rise in anti-Muslim hate crimes after 9/11.

What middle class white America does not grasp is the absolute dread that people of color, particularly those in poverty, have of law enforcement.

So far this year US police have killed 816 people (as of 9/14/16). In 2015, the number was 1,207. Many of these people were armed or “resisting arrest." But the penalty for resisting arrest is not summary execution by an agent of the state. Some of these incidents were captured on video and viewed by millions. But the vast, vast majority happened with little to no coverage from social media and the national press.

This is what these protests are about.

The protests started by Kaepernick, continued by Rapinoe and coming soon to GA, are an attempt to gain the attention of the apolitical, unaffected and unconcerned. Aside from the President, the most visible Blacks in America are professional athletes. Kaepernick is not fighting for himself--he is fighting for the voiceless. As a society, we have allowed the normalization of use of force by officers of the law upon some of the most vulnerable members of our population. These protests are an attempt to get the nation’s attention on the biggest possible stage.

Herculez Gomez was recently asked about the protests in the Seattle Times. He responded that “If you were to have asked me this 10 years ago, it would have been very different. I would’ve told you about me getting pulled over at 16, being asked to show my license and registration, reaching in the glove compartment for it and all of a sudden getting a handgun in my face — because the cop was scared I was reaching for something else.” This resonates with me. Herc and I are roughly the same age. I have family in law enforcement. My most terrifying encounters with law enforcement are now decades old. I imagine, if I didn’t have frequent contact with young people, I might feel as he does. But as a teacher in a low income, urban school these issues have an immediacy for me. Everyday at Lincoln, I teach sixteen year-old Hercs and Colins and after listening to them day-after-day, year-after-year, I can’t remain neutral. I won’t.

When Muhammad Ali passed away in June, I wrote a piece criticizing athletes of the “$10 million endorsement era,” particularly Michael Jordan, for their silence on issues of justice. Many of the same people who praised Ali in his twilight years and after his death have contempt for Kaepernick and Rapinoe; the cognitive dissonance is stupefying. I applaud Kaepernick, someone I have reviled for half a decade, for taking a stand. I commend Rapinoe for joining him and keeping the conversation going. I will be kneeling during the anthem in the Brougham End and at Husky Stadium this weekend. If you want me to stand up during the anthem, stand with me.

Stand with me in advocating for reforms to policing like those proposed by Campaign Zero.

Stand with me in favor of body cameras.

Stand with me against militarization of police.

Stand with me against stop and frisk.

Stand with me against use of force laws that prevent officers who kill unarmed citizens from facing charges.

Stand with me against civil asset forfeiture.

Stand with me against mass incarceration of nonviolent drug offenders.

If you want me to stand up, stand with me.

This post was originally published on the Seattle Sounders fan blog, Sounder at Heart

We have the answer, we choose to ignore it

There is a version of American history that I was taught in school. You were probably taught it too: America was founded, there were Indians, we had slavery--slavery was bad. Andrew Jackson screwed the Indians and they vanished. We had a Civil War and then Lincoln freed the slaves. After the war black people were still subjugated, but only in the South. Then there were two World Wars, with a Great Depression in between, and then Martin Luther King led some protests, had a Dream, died, and now we are all equal.

This version of history yadda-yaddas through decades of struggle and intentionally obscures decades of laws and policies that helped construct and codify segregation in local, state and federal law. Segregation is not an accident of American history. It is the story of American history.

We have the power and tools to dismantle segregated schools. To do so, we must disabuse ourselves of the notion that somehow, organically, in every major urban area in our nation, a uniform pattern of segregated housing, segregated schools, and disproportionate policing practices simultaneously arose. That is, at best, magical thinking. Segregation was constructed by the government, at the behest of the people (for more on that construction see here, here and especially here). It something we chose to build; it is no different than the transcontinental railroad or the Washington Monument.

We make a choice, we make it everyday. When young, white professionals, live in a working class, mixed race neighborhood as long as they must, but flee to whiter wealthier confines, as soon as they can or when it’s time to have children, they serve as the foot-soldiers of neighborhood and school segregation. Most urban segregation is the result of the absence of white families--white flight. Put differently, people of color do not choose to live in segregation. Segregation is created by white families when they make the choice, conscious or otherwise, to leave communities, en masse. This framing is essential in understanding and solving the problem.

The hallways of my school tell this tale all too clearly. Abraham Lincoln High School was built in 1913 and we have portraits of every graduating class from 1914 through the near present. These are amazing historical markers. I often walk my students through the pictures. I point out famous grads, we discuss how the senior classes in 1942-45 were smaller because so many males enlisted. We note the appearance of the first afros. Every year the same question comes up… “What happened to all the white students?”

The photos are nearly uniformly white until the late 60s (there are a few Japanese students in the late 30s photos, but they vanish after the internment). And then poof somewhere between 1968 and 1972 everything changed. Lincoln is now 75% students of color; it is situated in a city that is 65% white, in state that is 77% white--nearly the perfect inverse. These figures are neither organic nor an accident. 

School segregation is the result of intentional policy choices and governmental interventions. It was constructed, and to end it we must deconstruct it through further interventions. We also must acknowledge that segregation was created at the behest of middle class white voters and business leaders and it can only be undone at their behest.

Frankly, I am not hopeful about that happening, longtime readers may recall my response to the Fusco letter--I think his views are more mainstream than we care to admit. When Seattle began busing, 3,000 white students vanished from the district. Today 30% of the students in Seattle attend private schools. Those Venn Diagrams overlap. 

These are all choices. We choose to live and teach our children this way, but we don’t have to. There is a better way.

A Syllabus for Students When Dealing with Law Enforcement

I have a complicated relationship with law enforcement...

When I was a kid, growing up in Tacoma, I was often stopped and harassed by law enforcement while riding bikes with my friends. It got to the point where I started to carry the receipt for the bike my parents gave me, because police stopped me and accused me of stealing it so often.

In my sophomore year, I was riding with a white female friend. We were driving through Fircrest, a suburban town that abuts Tacoma. An officer pulled my friend over and whispered “are you okay?” as if I had kidnapped her and her mom’s VW Vanagon. She flipped TF out, on my behalf. It was my first conscious experience with ally-ship.

When I was 15 years-old, while standing on the bus stop by myself, after watching that terrible George Clooney  Batman Movie. I was rushed, thrown to the ground, and had a gun pointed in my face by an officer because, like countless other black men "I matched the description..."

To this day, as a now 36 year-old, I get pulled over multiple times per year.

On the other hand, I have always loved the idea of police work. My favorite TV genre, by far, is the police procedural. I have an older brother who is an officer in Seattle. When I was in high school one my mentors was our SRO. He saw potential in me that I didn’t see--he constantly gave me life advice and kept tabs on me. To this day, whenever he sees me with my wife, he stops and tells embarrassing stories about how big of a dork I was in high school.

In 2004, I heavily considered applying to the Washington State Patrol, rather than going into teaching. I often think about the similarities between teaching and law enforcement. When I watch videos of law enforcement using force, I often think about the de-escalation skills that are essential in both careers. Teachers who can’t de-escalate conflict, set kids off, have chaotic classrooms and suffer frequent discipline issues. Officers who can’t de-escalate, tend to use force with more frequency and receive the most community complaints. The best teachers I know, value and immerse themselves in the communities they serve--much like how community policing has been one of the most effective reforms within law enforcement over the last 30 years. 

There are good teachers and bad teachers; there are good police and bad police. Students know they have a bad teacher after a few days of class and can change their schedules or otherwise find ways to cope. But they won’t know they’ve encountered a bad officer until it’s far, far too late. Because of this, when teaching civil liberties, I do a workshop for my students on their rights when dealing with law enforcement, particularly the 4th, 5th and 6th Amendments. This workshop is the most important lesson I teach each year. I offer this handout that I created for my students here for your feedback, additions, contributions and if you’re so inclined, sharing.

A Syllabus for Students When Dealing with Law Enforcement

The stakes are high for my students. Whenever I give a talk about teaching, I talk about the lack of predictability and danger that children of color and those in poverty face, on a daily basis. Never is that lack of predictability more dangerous than when it comes to encounters with those who are sworn to protect them. I know that no amount of “respectability” can keep people of color safe in America; Sandra Bland, Henry Louis Gates and James Blake have taught us so, but my hope is that I can increase the odds for my students and yours.