What can a police officer do without getting indicted?

Police brutality is nothing new. Not even remotely. I myself have witnessed what police officers en masse can be capable of first hand, watching from the correct side of the gates of the University of Puerto Rico. However, brutality becomes abuse when it is laced with racial undertones and, moreover, when death is the unfortunate consequence.

            Perhaps what should concern us most is the escalation of what can only now be described as bulletproof police brutality. Think back to the 2012 shooting and death of young Black man Trayvon Martin at the hands of neighborhood watchman George Zimmerman. Martin was only 17 years of age at the time of his death. Zimmerman shot the unarmed minor during an altercation between the two, the true nature of which only George Zimmerman now knows.

            Now, Zimmerman – as the neighborhood watch coordinator for the gated Florida community in which Martin was staying and in which the shooting took place – is definitely not a law enforcement officer by any stretch of the imagination, which might explain why he actually was charged.

            Zimmerman was accused of second-degree murder, despite the fact that he maintained throughout that he had acted in self-defense. The case went to trial and, after sixteen hours of deliberations over the course of two days, the jury returned a verdict of not guilty on all counts. George Zimmerman did not murder Trayvon Martin. He wasn’t even guilty of the lesser included charge of manslaughter. But hey, at least he was tried before getting off.

            Let’s skip ahead a couple years now – to August of this year – and change the setting from Sanford, Florida to Ferguson, Missouri. I am referring, of course, to the shooting death of 18-year-old Michael Brown by White Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson. Think for a minute: What did Michael Brown have in common with Trayvon Martin? Beyond rhetorical, the answer to that question is plain too simple. Coincidental even. Brown was a young Black man. Underage. And, most, importantly, unarmed at the time of his demise.

Witness reports differ as to whether Brown had his hands raised when he was shot, and whether he was moving toward Wilson when the final shots were fired. What is clear, however, is that Officer Wilson fired a total of twelve rounds, seven or eight of which managed to hit Brown – all from the front – the last of them likely being the fatal shot. Even worse: less than 90 seconds passed from the time Wilson encountered Brown to the time of Brown’s death.

While the similarities between the two victims are patently clear, that is clearly not the case for the men on the other side of the bullets. Zimmerman is a self-identified “Hispanic”: his mother was born in Peru; his father is from German ancestry. Wilson, on the other hand, is inarguably a White man: born in Texas, living in Missouri, proud American for sure. The first one was charged and tried; the second was not.

In Wilson’s case, a grand jury was formed and charged with the task of determining whether or not a crime was committed and, if so, if Darren Wilson committed said crime. All the prosecution was looking for – or should have been looking for – is probable cause. However, as is commonly known now, the grand jury elected not to indict Wilson. No charges. At all.

Following the announcement, information has come forward to evidence that this grand jury proceeding was perhaps a little less than typical. The proceedings lasted three months, with 60 witnesses – including investigators – being called to testify. In fact, Wilson himself testified extensively before the grand jury. More alarming, perhaps, is the fact that prosecutors did not present the grand jury with the range of charges that they wanted an indictment for. It probably would have been a good idea to do so.

The lack of indictment is understandably frustrating. And it is common knowledge that protests and civil disorder erupted following the formal announcement of the grand jury’s decision. But let’s take into consideration that witness reports on what happened during those aforementioned 90 seconds were contradictory. And Michael Brown certainly couldn’t testify against his aggressor. I mean, it’s not like there was a recording of the incident that prosecutors could have played for the grand jury to help illuminate them as to what exactly transpired.

Cut to New York State and the death of 43-year-old Eric Garner. Garner was initially approached by plainclothes police officer Justin Damico in Staten Island. He was heard saying, “I was just minding my own business. Every time you see me you want to mess with me. I'm tired of it. It stops today!”. Garner was thereafter put into a chokehold – from behind – by New York police officer Daniel Pantaleo. Needless to say, he was subdued.

Almost immediately after being put into the chokehold by Pantaleo, Garner – an asthmatic – could be heard stating repeatedly that he was unable to breathe. Several other officers then struggled to bring the 6’3, 350-pound Garner down onto the sidewalk and have him put his arms behind his back – all while Pantaleo still had him in the infamous chokehold. Garner died a few minutes later.

The interesting thing about Garner’s case is the fact that Ramsey Orta, a friend of his, videotaped his death. The video showed Officer Pantaleo using his hands to push Garner’s head down onto the sidewalk shortly before his death. It also showed that police officers at the scene – and there were many – waited 7 precious mintued before giving Garner CPR.

It’s important to note that the chokehold used by Pantaleo against Garner – though not in and of itself illegal – has been clearly prohibited by the NYPD for over two decades now. Regardless of whether he actually did or now, Pantaleo should have known that. Garner was unarmed – another coincidence, surely, just like the fact that Garner, too, was Black – and didn’t appear, at least in the video, to have been doing anything wrong when police officers intervened with him. Unlike Martin and Brown, however, Garner was not one-on-one against the police officer that would eventually bring about his death. It was not a “he said, he said” scenario by any means, with plenty of bystanders on the street witnessing what was taking place. Not to mention – oh, yeah – Orta’s recording.

Jump ahead to the grand jury decision on the case and the announcement that Pantaleo would not face criminal charges for the death of Eric Garner. Justice! But for whom?

The deaths of these young men carry with them innate repercussions that go far beyond the fact that lives were lost. The racial identity of the perpetrators and the victims serve to exacerbate the severity of this matter for everyone. The similarities are simply undeniable. In the grand scheme of things, however, it is ultimately the outcome that speaks the loudest, particularly – and on a universal level – of us as a society.

With the legal proceedings over and done with, the families of these young men are left with nothing else to do but grieve for their loved ones and hope for a semblance of justice in a potential civil suit. As for the rest of us, we are all forced to sit idly back and watch when Darren Wilson goes on television and says that he would shoot Michael Brown again, not choosing to do anything differently; when Ramsey Orta – the man who videotaped Eric Garner’s death – is indicted, but his killer is not. Ultimately, no jail time will be served by any of the men who pulled the trigger leading to these deaths.

In all of this, we are left with too many queries to try to make sense of. How might things have been different if Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown or Eric Garner had been White? Might that have changed their fates? What if Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo had been Black instead? Might that have led to an indictment? What if they hadn’t been police officers? What if we lived in a world where that didn’t matter?