This is my April column for my hometown newspaper, the @HollandSentinel…
The trial of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd started on Monday, and like many Americans I’ve been following the news. I can’t escape it.
I’ve been living in Minneapolis for the last few months to provide pandemic relief for my daughters and their families, and now suddenly I find myself at the center of a news story. After living in Holland and being surrounded for the last year by “Trump 2020” signs, I now live in a neighborhood where “Justice for George Floyd” signs are everywhere. My congresswoman is Ilhan Omar. This is definitely not Holland.
Against the advice of my daughters, I took a walk one afternoon to see “George Floyd Square” for myself. The intersection of 38th Street and Chicago Avenue is where Floyd died, after allegedly trying to pass a counterfeit $20 bill at the nearby Cup Foods grocery store. Officer Chauvin made the arrest, and according to onlookers who filmed the arrest and pleaded for Floyd’s life, Chauvin pressed his knee into Floyd’s neck for eight minutes and 46 seconds (and possibly longer).
Floyd died from that knee pressed to his neck, though he had a pre-existing heart condition and illegal drugs were found in his system during the autopsy. The jury will be asked to decide the exact cause of death, in order to determine the culpability of officer Chauvin.
“George Floyd Square” is now a memorial, still decorated with flowers, signs, and public art, and the streets around it have been blocked by protesters to through traffic for much of the last year. In language some politicians like to deploy, it has become a “no-go zone.”
The city has, perhaps wisely, decided to allow the memorial to continue for now. On June 13, 2020, the Minneapolis police issued a statement that they would “not be altering or decommissioning the memorial of [sic] George Floyd. We respect the memory of him and will not disrupt the meaningful artifacts that honor the importance of his life.”
According to national media, the city is “on edge,” awaiting the outcome of the trial. I don’t know if that’s true. I notice a sense of resignation, as well as some lingering anger. The people I talked to during my walk seem resigned to the fact that police officers are seldom convicted of killing unarmed civilians—in particular, unarmed Black civilians. They don’t expect that this time will be any different. Will there be more violence if the former officer is acquitted? It’s possible. It will happen because of a widespread feeling that the system itself is broken.
Floyd was a Christian—an imperfect one, which might also describe me. He was born in Fayetteville, North Carolina, and grew up in Houston—in the projects of that city. Because he grew to be 6’ 6” tall, he was a high school basketball player, but he wasn’t successful in college and dropped out after his third year. He liked music, so he did some rap, using the stage name “Big Floyd.” He also did drugs and prison time, including a four-year sentence for aggravated robbery with a deadly weapon. And then he got religion.
He attended a charismatic church called Resurrection Houston, where he delivered meals to senior citizens and mentored young men. With his height and color, he knew that he could be an intimidating presence, so he presented himself as meek and shy. If he shook your hand, he would use two of his to take yours. He was also a hugger. According to everyone who knew him, he never presented himself as a victim. He was well loved. Because of his size and intimidating presence, he found work as a bouncer at a nightclub and could remove troublemakers without much effort. He kept a Bible on his nightstand.
He came north to Minneapolis to go to drug rehab, but he continued to struggle. He was an addict, and he knew it. He didn’t stop being a Christian, though; he just continued to be an imperfect one. He had a girlfriend, and they went to church together.
Like Floyd, officer Chauvin is a human being. He will sit next to his defense attorney for the next month or so, and he will write words on a legal pad, because there isn’t much else that he can do. His fate is in the hands of a jury whose members have a thankless job. Either outcome in the trial—a guilty verdict or an acquittal—will be an outrage to someone. I don’t envy them.
So, I pray for them, for officer Chauvin, and for this city.
The trial begins
Wow! Must be interesting to be at the epicenter. I just feel such horror and anger every time I watch the video and I am flummoxed to try to understand how ANYONE could willfully keep a knee on this man's throat for 9 minutes and 29 seconds as he pleaded for mercy, as he pleaded for life and cold heartedly watch him die... inch by inch... under his own force. To me, it seems unbelievably evil... THIS one was caught on video for the world to see. How many others were not and were explained away with no proof to determine otherwise? The country is watching...