When
I was still a member of American Mensa, I ran what was known as a
Special Interest Group, or Sig: Social Change and Renewal. It was
an attempt to introduce and maintain a level of philosophical inquiry
into what was primarily a social organization.
There
were two topics I knew I couldn't present without being tackled by
kneejerk opinions: abortion and the O.J. Simpson trial. But I did
try two that bore unexpectedly disappointing results. One of them
was police brutality.
The
publicized topics always had a tag line, and I'm not certain I can
remember exactly what it was in this case. Living as I did at the
time in New York City, I can fairly assume that there was some
headlined case being bandied about in the papers that lead me to
start the discussion. Anyway...
There
was a fair turnout for the group; I would say perhaps seven or eight
including a ranking police officer. Being the facilitator, and
knowing the largely undigested opinions of many club members, I
anticipated trouble. It presented itself right away. Legs akimbo so
as to facilitate perhaps a comfortable living room approach to his
participation, he declared flatly “There is no police brutality.”
There
is a long enough list of victims; the one coming to mind is Amadou
Diallo. Most likely an unsuspecting subject of a police pursuit, he
was trapped in a apartment building vestibule. Removing a wallet
from his pocket, the officers cried “gun” and a series of 41
shots rang out, killing Amadou. There was also the hideously
gruesome men's room assault where a police baton was introduced into
a man's rectum. These, for me, are the kind of troubling details
that are even more troubling left unaddressed.
Here,
in Newburgh, the situation is no different: if not police violence,
police indifference. I myself have a history of being victimized
more than once. The subject of neighborhood harrassment, I was left
without the resource of community policing. Too, some years later,
and after a diligent course of observation and reflection, I
attempted to file a criminal complaint. When I went to the precinct
to obtain a copy of the associated report, I was treated to something
resembling small scale Vaudeville act. After a slovenly officer
pretended an inability to read, a more imposing invidivual came out
with the seeming objective of bamboozling me. Left without the
necessary information the local District Attorney required, I
abandoned my pursuit of justice.
There
have been marches, demonstrations, organizing efforts in what seem to
me heartbreakingly futile attempts to establish some kind of
municipal or community oversight. Right now, we can only hope for
opportunities to publicly grieve our losses and voice our rage. Come
the revolution, we can hope for much more.