Ferguson and the Sad Truth of Afro-American Culture in the United States
Ferguson can be portrayed in many ways, but not as an example of police brutality. Michael Brown, the African-American victim measuring 6 foot and 5 inches and weighing more than 200 lbs, had gone into a store to blatantly steal a box of cigars. When the relatively diminutive Indian owner confronted Brown, Brown merely shoved him aside with one arm and walked out. When the young AngloSaxon policeman involved approached Brown, Brown shut the policeman's own car door, slapped him in the face, and told him he didn't have the 'cojones' to do anything about it. Whatever the outcome, it was certain not to be a good one given Brown's aggressive and overbearing posture.
The incident has been taken by many in the US and here in Puerto Rico as an example of overt racism towards African Americans. Leading liberals as Harry Anduze, whom I greatly respect and admire, have publicly taken this stance, but it is one is tainted by a great deal of ignorance of North American realities. This is not to suggest that racism does not exist in the United States, for it certainly does with regard to many ethnicities, skin colors, and of a range from the overt to the passive aggressive kind. However, such stances worsen the particular case at hand because they obviate the need for a sincere and honest look at the current state of African American culture in the United States.
Anyone who pretends to claim that culture is of no impact is profoundly mistaken.
When I lived in Minnesota, I would daily take the bus from my apartment near the 'Uptown' area to the university campus on the other side of the river. I was fairly fortunate in having been able to get a good deal on an apartment during graduate school, paying $395 a month at a good location. The apartment was some 5 miles away from campus, on a fairly flat terrain, and near a group of four lakes. I would have ridden my bike every day, except for the extreme cold and subzero temperatures during much of the school year. Therefore, the need to commute on bus everyday took me though places that I would not have otherwise gone through on my own.
I will never forget that strange sense of uncertainty and a degree of 'fear' when passing through certain neighborhoods between these two endpoints. It is actually hard to describe in detail, but the faces of distrust and disdain are what characterized individuals on the sidewalk--some of whom were drinking or idly standing by in the middle of a weekday. One would certainly not want to find oneself stranded in these areas, already profoundly inhospitable in the context of the weather. The faces of the community seemed at times to reflect the miserable weather outside.
This was all the more shocking to me when I went to visit another graduate student who lived in a nearby apartment complex with the relatively large presence of many ethiopians. There could not have been a greater difference between to African American neighborhoods which I had merely had a glimpse of and of the Ethiopian community nearby. There was a sense of cultural wholeness, of a totally different way of relating to people in the ethiopian community--which was also observed 'from the outside'. People smiled, looked at each other in the eyes, truly listened to what the other person was saying, and honestly shook hands in mutual agreement with each other. There was a genuine sense of 'community' in the ethiopian migrant group, in sharp contrast to the pervasive 'urban jungle' which characterized African-American streets.
It became clear to me the existence of a cultural vacuum in the African American community--to such an extent that someone sitting in the bus could easily 'pickup' the vibes of said community without having even stepped on its streets.
A recent video with a hidden camera that was taken by a woman who walked for a day in the streets of New York City helps reinforce this view. Although certainly harassed by many different men, there was the case of one particular African American gentleman who followed her for blocks on end, until finally giving up. This video sent a stronger message than the totality of sociological community studies that could have been written of the incident.
Another video also recently posted on YouTube revealed a horrific incident in a cellphone store in what appears to have been a small mall; the store opened to the parking lot rather than internally to the mall. The cashier was at her stand viewing her cellphone e when a tall and slim black man entered through the doors. He pretended at first to look at some items. When the cashier asked if he needed anything, he walked up to her and punched her face with such force, that she was flung back a couple of feet in the air. She must have been perhaps 5'3", naturally cowering in a fetal position upon the assault. The man walked to the cashier box, opened it, took all the money and a few items and calmly walked out of the store. She gradually forced herself to get up and call the principal manager for assistance.
To what extent do we blame others for our miseries and at what point do we begin to take responsibility for our own actions and behaviors? The riots in Ferguson which followed the indictment in many persons' minds only served to support age old stereotypes of the African American community--doing much greater harm to the image of its members than what its participants can imagine. While, again, nobody can deny the history of slavery in the United States, nor the presence of institutionalized degradation which followed the post Civil War period, at some point this community has to hold accountable to itself for its own wellbeing. Whatever the circumstances might exist, cruel and unjust, men will always have the liberty to behave in a dignified and civil manner--as Albert Camus wrote.
Circumstances might shape a man, but they do not define him. Only he can do this for himself.