To Brutalize and To Kill

by JANAK G RAMACHANDRAN/POOR Magazine/PNN Poverty Studies Intern/Mentor; Dee

As I eased through the traffic light in my aging Honda, I started at the intrusive bleep of a siren and the ominous flicker of red and blue. Fear coursed through my body as the rush of adrenaline activated the primitive fight or flight response that we’ve all inherited from our human genetic history. It’s a cop! What did I do? “Relax”, I thought, “he’s probably just trying to pass.” I moved over and…he moved with me. He was coming for me. I pulled over and sat nervously in my car as he approached my car window. He looked like a stormtrooper that, having stalked its bounty, was ready for the kill. Through my sideview mirror, I could see the tools of his trade—the baton, the gun, and the radio communicator that would bring more batons and guns should he decide to do so. I rolled down my window and greeted him with a simple “Hello.” Did I look friendly? Did I smile? How can I seem non-threatening? As these thoughts raced through my head, he growled, “I pulled you over because you look like a terrorist. You also seem, by the look of your car, to not have a lot of money. And I work for elite interests who have hired me to check on people like you and insure that we take more money from the poor to give to the rich. That way you’ll be so concerned about food and shelter that you’ll never galvanize into a collective voice of opposition.”

Actually, he didn’t say that but, in my fear and underlying anger at what the police have come to represent, that’s what I heard when he told me about my cracked windshield and that I would have to replace it within 30 days. I had no idea how I was going to accomplish this feat given that I still had difficulty paying for food, shelter, etc. from month to month.

But, then, at least I have food and shelter. At least I can afford to live in a one-bedroom apartment with electricity and a phone. And I have enough family and friends in my life to know that I will likely never end up on the streets. I have a haven where I am out of sight of the police for much of the time. What of those who have no food and shelter? What of those who cannot escape police scrutiny? To whom or what can they turn for justice?

Everyday the people of San Francisco and surrounding communities are harassed and brutalized by police charged “to protect and to serve.” Some, like Idriss Stelley and Jerome Hooper, are murdered. Idriss Stelley was gunned down in the Metreon by San Francisco police officers who were responding to a call from his girlfriend that indicated his need for crisis counseling. Instead of the expected mental health and counseling professionals and their comforting words, Idriss, crying out for help, was silenced forever by a swarm of police officers and a hail of twenty-eight bullets. Jerome Hooper, unarmed and unaware of the danger before him, was killed with four bullets to the chest at close range. According to witness James Thull, the plain clothes, off-duty police officer never identified himself as a police officer when he taunted and challenged Jerome Hooper into a fistfight. Angered by the fact that he was losing the fistfight, the off-duty police officer then decided to end Jerome’s life.

In response to this brutality and numerous other cases, the community saw fit to bring before the SF Board of Supervisors a charter amendment concerning police commissions. This measure, which would grant new, more sweeping oversight powers to the Office of Citizen Complaints as well as provide for the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to appoint three of seven members to the police commission (the other four remaining in the mayor’s purview), was proposed by Supervisor Tom Ammiano.

On Tuesday, July 15th, I walked into San Francisco city hall to see whether this amendment would be put on the ballot this November. Passing through the security check has become routine at airports and government facilities though, as a person of color, I will never be used to the extra scrutiny that I always “randomly” receive. This security check was unique because, for the first time since September 11th, 2001, I was not dragged aside and forced to prove, in front of gawking passersby, that I actually have underwear beneath my pants. As I approached the massive, rounded steps that led upstairs to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors meeting, I paused to notice the grandeur around me. On one level, the polished marble floors, enormous rooms and corridors, and unparalleled high ceilings were a vast, luxurious space that seemed to ennoble this seat of San Francisco government. On another, these same features were Goliath crushing David—they reminded me of how I felt when I saw the stormtrooper walking toward me in my sideview mirror. For I knew that the crimes committed against Idris Stelley and Jerome Hooper were not isolated incidents. And whether I’m next is just a matter of luck. Is this officer a model citizen who sees his/her badge as a charge “to protect and to serve” or a thug who sees it as a license to brutalize and to kill? For the poor and people of color, this fear is an everyday fact of life. I, myself, am momentarily terrified by the sight of a police officer or police car and yet, one might think that my relatively good citizen behavior, never having received anything more serious than a moving violation infraction, would leave me free of a fear akin to being in the clutches of Darth Vader. But there is no safety in being a good citizen around bad cops—just last August 25th, Marcus Law, an honor roll student (from the Bayview/Hunters Point area of San Francisco) with a full college scholarship and no criminal record, was sent to the hospital by the police and their batons for being an innocent bystanding witness of police brutality. He had just seen an unarmed Lee Collins, with his hands in the air, beat by police until he was unconscious. Another David crushed by Goliath…so there I stood gazing through the halls of Goliath, where the power of the wealthy and corporate elite gathering more for themselves occurred at the expense of the poor and underserved. How ironic that this foothold of the powerful is where those seeking justice for the powerless must come for a redress of their grievances.

After I found a seat inside the San Francisco Board of Supervisors meeting, several hours passed and neither the police commission amendment nor the vote on Proposition N that my colleague, Josh McVeigh-Schultz, was covering, had been selected from the agenda. “Maybe it’s a strategic move,” blurts Josh. “You may be right”, I respond. Is that the plan? Wait until those opposed have filtered out of the meeting and then bring up the measures at midnight? As the meeting drones on, I notice that hours are being spent debating whether people who have homes can have another “unit” inside their homes while measures that might help prevent the SFPD from harassing, beating, and killing those without a place to live (as well as those of us with homes) and that might save the small sum upon which the homeless subsist from becoming almost nonexistent are ignored. Late in the night, though, the board voted 7-4 to place the charter amendment regarding police commissions before voters this November. If it passes, some semblance of justice might be possible for those subject to police crimes.

To further investigate the measure’s chances of passing, I attended the kickoff meeting of San Franciscans for Police Reform and Oversight (SFPRO) one month later (August 18th). I was greeted by a variety of energized and concerned citizens organizing a voter information drive to galvanize support for the Police Charter Amendment. According to SFPRO, the measure would “help turn the Office of Citizen Complaints and the Police Commission into genuine restraints on police misconduct”. Mark Schlosberg of the ACLU chaired the meeting with an unassuming, almost shy, but direct and comfortable manner. Soon an action plan to build a volunteer force for literature drops, phone banking, and tabling had been created. The highlight of the evening’s planning centered around organizing a bus tour of San Francisco police crimes. Mesha Irizarry of the Idriss Stelley Foundation had devised the idea of a “tour of police brutality” that would create greater public awareness. “The community is ready to riot”, rings her gentle but emphatic voice as I interview her about the idea. “(We need to) get cops who live in the neighborhood to police the neighborhood.” The Idriss Stelley Foundation is planning an October march with the theme, Shape Up SFPD (a working title), to coincide with the bus tour. Malaika Parker, Director of Bay Area Police Watch, also pushed (at the SFPRO meeting) that the bus tour should tour not only those episodes where the city determined “police misconduct but (also) what the public perceives as misconduct.” The effort to stop police crimes and brutality was underway. For further information regarding the October march, contact the Idriss Stelley Foundation at 415-671-0449. For those interested in further information regarding the bus tour and the efforts of SFPRO, contact the ACLU at 415-621-2493. The bus tour will be occurring during the month of October and will make numerous stops, including the locations of the crimes against Idriss Stelley, Jerome Hooper, Lee Collins, and Marcus Law.

Though nothing untoward occurred when I was stopped for the crack in my windshield, I cannot help but remember the sign I read along the side of the road as I pulled away from that stormtrooper: Driving while black or brown (DWB) is not a crime. Perhaps, with the efforts of SFPRO and the votes of fellow San Franciscans this November 4th, the sign can add that police brutality is.