5 minute read
A View from the Balcony - But Not Really
By HARRISON D. MCIVER III, ESQ. CEO Emeritus, Memphis Area Legal Services, Inc.
The past one-and-a-half years have afforded me more time to reflect on where we are as a community and a nation. Retiring from Memphis Area Legal Services (MALS) as its CEO presents me a unique opportunity to share a perspective that is more open and candid. While there, I was always careful not to cause any adverse implications to MALS. During this period (until the recession of 2020), we witnessed records set on Wall Street that made a lot of money for a lot of people. But, left behind were members of our society who were disproportionately people of color, along with others who lived at the margins.
In 2020, two pandemics struck our country - COVID 19 and racial inequality. The latter became front and center with the murder of George Floyd, although race is also a factor in the mortality rate of those who contract this dreaded disease. The pandemic revealed systemic inequities and structural racism reflected in how this disease ravished people of color due to comorbidities occasioned by the lack of quality health care, housing, employment, a nutritious diet and other factors. Permit me to pause to applaud the untiring and relentless efforts and sacrifice of front-line heroes who provide medical care and other necessities during this unprecedented crisis.
In the midst of reeling from COVID 19, we watched in horror George Floyd’s death by a Minneapolis police officer’s knee on his neck while he cried out, “I can’t breathe.” Social media capturing this horrific event precluded any reasonable debate of anything but murder. Other Black Americans who died at the hands of law
enforcement were Breonna Taylor, Atatiana Jefferson, Aura Rosser, Stephon Clark, Philando Castille, Alton Sterling, Freddie Gray, Eric Gardener, Tamir Rice and Rayshard Brooks. The list is far from exhaustive. Statistics from 2014 to 2019 reveal that 25% of those killed by law enforcement were Black, although Blacks only comprised a little over 13% of the overall population.
The death of George Floyd catapulted “Black Lives Matters” onto the national stage, although it had been around for years following other law enforcement-related deaths of Blacks. The outpouring of condemnation was appropriate and swift. Peaceful and non-violent protests erupted not only in this country but around the world.
A child of the 60’s, I grew up when segregation was being dismantled - precipitated by peaceful protests, marches, sit-ins, and the like. These actions raised the conscience of America leading to the unraveling of America’s form of apartheid. During that period, whites and others joined “demonstrations” but in relatively small numbers. Unlike then, the outpouring of support under the aegis of “Black Lives Matter” in the wake of Floyd’s death is more profound. Even more impressive are the participants. Young people of all races and ethnic groups are committed to having an America that lives up to the tenets of equality, fairness and justice. Just a few blocks from my home in Midtown, I was moved to see predominantly young white protesters carrying signs stating “Black Lives Matter.”
In speaking with some of my white acquaintances, some just do not get it. They view “Black Lives Matter” as a repudiation that other lives do not matter. They fail to understand that Black (and Brown) Americans are especially susceptible to mistreatment and even death at the hands of law enforcement. Just ask your Black male friends if they have received the “talk.” My parents sat me down at an early age and lectured me on how to survive if and when stopped or questioned by law enforcement. We were told “Don’t challenge or argue, even if the stop is unjustified. Remain in your car, keep your hands on the steering wheel and ask permission to produce your license, insurance or car registration.” I personally have had to employ such survival tactics. I have two young biracial grandsons, Black and Mexican American, with whom I or their parents will have the “talk.”
“Black Lives Matter” is more than just about encounters with the law enforcement but achieving economic, political and social justice. It’s about causing each of us to think, recognizing and acknowledging our biases by taking an introspective view that causes modified behavior in decision-making.
I did so often during my 20-year tenure as CEO of MALS. I had to confront behavior that revealed biases by some staff, board and people of goodwill. The challenge: it is never too late to invest in becoming the person we all aspire to be. That’s the challenge all of us should embrace in our daily lives.
In closing, I was only figuratively in the balcony. In retirement I have been engaged in responding to the issues and challenges of the day. One example is my serving on the Tennessee Bar Association‘s Diversity and Inclusion Task Force. All members of the legal profession who believe in the rule of law should “come down from the balcony,” for the consequences are too great to sit on the sidelines. What is happening is beyond politics because the soul of this nation - our democracy - is at stake. We have witnessed our national elected leaders engage in behavior that seeks to divide our nation based on race, gender, ethnicity and religion. Dr. King reminded us that the “arc of the moral universe is long, but bends toward justice.” We have the responsibility to ensure that the arc continues to bend toward justice and not break in the face of the narrative of racism, bias and voter suppression. Each of these actions demeans life in favor of political and economic gain.
We recently lost a true giant in the passing of Congressman John R. Lewis, who in the face of his impending death visited Black Lives Matter Plaza in our nation’s capital. He challenged us to care for one another and to work to ensure that each of us reaps the benefits of America, and if not, to “never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.” I will; will you?
Harrison D. McIver III was CEO of MALS for more than 20 years, and a national, state and local leader and advocate for justice in the equal justice community for more than 40 years.