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On May 11th, 2009, Nathaniel Sanders II was shot dead by an APD officer. Here are the solid facts: Sanders had been arrested several times previously; the APD officer, who was suspended in 2006 but was nominated for employee of the year in 2008, didn’t turn on his dashboard camera before approaching the car Sanders was in at the time; Sanders was asleep in the backseat seconds before he was shot dead; there was a gun in the car. At the moment, that’s all that anyone knows for sure.
But Sanders’ death marks only the latest deadly shooting by police in the past few years here, and all of the dead have been minorities killed on the East Side. Given this history and all the open questions about the Sanders shooting, an inevitable riot broke out on the morning of May 12th just blocks from where Sanders died. To try to calm the community, the city set up a meeting on June 1st for APD Chief Acevedo (no relation) and various elected officials to field questions and listen to the concerns of those from the neighborhood. The million dollar question was whether the needs of the neighborhood and the necessity of the city officials to keep up appearances could come together in the same room. Here’s a breakdown of how it went:
THOSE IN ATTENDANCE
This was a community meeting in the truest sense. Old ladies pointed out neighbors’ cousins to their friends and community figureheads shook hands with solemn kids in basketball shorts. There were preachers who spoke like pimps, slangers who spoke like righteous politicians, women in church clothes talked of Jesus’ undying love while men in work shirts used the lord’s name in vain, etc. In short, the 300 people there went beyond reflective, right into representative of the entire community. There were those who blamed the police for everything, those who partially blamed Sanders, those who blamed rap music, those who blamed the white capitalist structure for destroying their lives, and those who blamed their own community for playing the apathetic victim. The only view that everyone shared was a quiet despair over yet another police shooting happening in their own backyard.
THE INITIAL STALL
The meeting was kicked off by Shuronda Robinson, a youngish black woman who runs her own local communications firm. I suppose her presence as moderator was intended to show everyone that Hey, a black person is in charge here, so this meeting will be fair to you. Instead, Robinson pissed away a good half-hour of the meeting, mostly by repeatedly telling the crowd that there was a limited amount of time for the meeting. She also led a prayer, joked with people in the front row, told her own personal story, and developed a needlessly chaotic order for who would speak at what time. Robinson has the amazing ability to be polite while talking down to you, but her shtick wore thin quickly. “Let’s get on with it!” people shouted from their seats, which only prompted Robinson to lead everyone through the rules once again. It’s hard to view Robinson’s perfunctory bullshit as anything other than a stall, and when residents started throwing around the word “house nigger” later on in the evening, it was clear who they were talking about.
ACEVEDO'S FACT FURY
Chief Acevedo made a statement before the floor was opened up to questions/comments, and after Robinson’s misdirection, his directness was refreshing. He let loose facts as fast as he could: The autopsy is complete, as is a drug-test done on the shooting officer; the incident occurred while the officer was trying to wake Sanders up; reconstruction of the scene is ongoing; Internal Affairs is investigating the incident thoroughly; the shooting officer hadn’t turned on his dashboard camera, but another cop had, and a tape of the incident exists; a full report will be given in 90 days. Acevedo then did something heroic—he apologized to the Sanders family. While he insisted that it was too early to tell if there was any wrongdoing on the officer’s part, Acevedo’s apology was more than a little moving. In 2005, at the community meeting after Daniel Rocha was gunned down by an APD officer, the practicing APD Chief at the time didn’t even show. Now here was Acevedo, hat in hand, begging everyone to wait for the facts to come in while expressing sympathy towards the deceased’s family. It was obvious that Acevedo gave a shit, and that he was there out of something greater than a media-driven obligation.
A LOSS OF FAITH
“Don’t judge the process,” Acevedo said, asking people not to presuppose injustice. “Engage us and we will be successful.” It was a nice sentiment, and one that Acevedo couldn’t have expected to immediately take him down a long dark road. But basically, everyone called bullshit on his statement, and they had personal stories to back up their disenfranchisement. There was an older gentleman who’d been tasered in his home after he wouldn’t let the cops in without a warrant, a kid who’d had his brutality complaint against a cop who’d hit him with a nightstick dismissed simply because the offending officer didn’t respond to the paperwork against him, a woman who’s brother died of a heart ailment while in police custody because the cops didn’t believe him when he said he had medical problems, and on and on. Numerous people asked why the officer hadn’t simply used his taser instead of his pistol on Sanders that fateful night, and for that there was no answer. The crowd groaned. “I have engaged the process,” one woman said later on, “and now I choose to judge it.”
THE QUESTION OF CAMERAS
It became obvious that many were there expecting to see the tape of Sanders’ shooting, while it was made very clear that the tape was evidence in an ongoing investigation, and as such has to be held until after the investigation is completed. And while that seems disingenuous so shortly after footage from the Oakland BART shooting led to a huge reversal by the OPD this past January, it was to be expected. Still, a good portion of the crowd refused to let go of this point, and good for them. When Acevedo answered specific questions about the shooting itself, people yelled out, “Prove It!” Acevedo met these remarks with stone-faced silence. “This meeting is a fraud if you aren’t gonna show us the truth,” a black millitant named Brother Anthony railed. “Show us the tape! We want the truth.” Others attacked more abstract issues concerning the cameras. A local ACLU field operative asked why officers weren’t placed on suspension when they didn’t turn on their cameras (there’s only been two disciplinary measures over camera misuse in the past five years). Larry Hargrove, a community activist with a flair for self-promotion (he stopped to field questions from the crowd!), asked another humdinger: Since so many people work jobs where they are constantly under surveillance, why is it impossible to have cameras in cop cars that run constantly? Both of these questions are solid. Everyone knows someone who’s been fired for a bureaucratic snafu, and yet APD officers aren’t held to the same standards as an employee at an auto parts store. Acevedo gave no answers here, as there aren’t any that make sense.
THE CITY IS SILENT
An older man named Rudy stood, took the mic, and asked a very simple question that seemed almost idiotic for a few seconds. Since Acevedo had answered every question so far, Rudy asked of the rest of the panel, “Do you care?” All he wanted to know is if these council members, precinct sergeants, and mayor/mayor-elect gave a shit that minorities on the wrong side of 35 were being gunned down by cops. Again, the question seemed overly simplistic at first, but then thirty-seconds passed without anyone from the city offices saying a word. After many catcalls, Will Winn finally stood and ensured us that he had made East Austin a better place. He then reminded us that he only had three weeks left on his mayoral term. Mayor-elect Lee Leffingwell then took the mic and made a complete ass of himself by basically repeating everything Winn had said while adding pathetic attempts to endear himself to the black congregation. Randi Shade bombed equally, essentially taking credit for all positive changes while blaming the rest of the problems on money issues. The council failed even more miserably as the night wore on. They vacated their seats to head backstage for large portions of time as they saw fit. They made jokes with each other while residents poured their hearts out on very real public issues. Council members answered questions by first stating that they were “glad” to be there. I don’t think anyone should be glad to be refuting claims of a murder by cop. Cliff Brown, Austin’s Police Monitor, was unable to describe what his job actually entails, though he was given numerous swings at the bat to explain himself. After 8:30, once the television cameras had disappeared, everyone stopped answering questions directly and simply nodded as the dark realms of our city were related to them. Honestly, it was a fucking sickening display of civic ineptitude.
STALL (SLIGHT RETURN)
The meeting had been planned to wrap up by 8:30 sharp, and as time neared nearly 40 questions had gone unanswered. Robinson attempted to shut down the proceedings, and the tension swelled to the point that I was quite certain that a riot was about to break out. After considering the issue, the meeting was extended for another hour. But the cameras left at 8:45, and after that a sad pattern set in: Residents would make impassioned speeches about the APD’s failure to correct itself and the city’s deeper race issues, but no one on the panel deemed it necessary to answer hardly any of their questions. All told, what they did was wait out the crowd. While much better informed, the questioners after 8:30 were largely revisiting old ground, and so the attendees grew both bored and emotionally overwhelmed. After Sanders’ family departed, half the crowd went with them, obviously to give their regards to them in the parking lot. The meeting continued, but the city representatives had staved off the larger anger by simply giving everyone a chance to speak without paying any mind to what they had to say. In the end, it was a brilliant stall, but what hope does that give for anything to ever change?
A FAILURE OF THE SYSTEM
For many residents, the bigger issue wasn’t that Sanders had been killed, but that Austin exists as basically two cities—one white, one black. Rudolph Williams spoke most elegantly on the subject. “Our children need the idea that there is something else for them,” he said. “The police lock up kids on unnecessary drug charges and create a debt for them they can’t pay, and then these same damn kids have to go out and sell the same damn drugs just to pay off the tickets for drugs they were just possessing in the first place.” The crowd roared, and Williams and others pointed out that this was a systematic flaw that had created a crime structure that now dominates their neighborhoods. Acevedo fired back on this with righteous indignation, noting that it’s a goddamn shame that more kids in these neighborhoods go to prison than to college. Truthfully, Acevedo looked quite mayoral while fielding this question, and if he ran in four years I might even vote for him, but he had no answers for how he would augment his department in order to correct these systemic flaws. “We have inherited a racist society,” one woman noted. “I’ve seen white men with huge bell-bottom pants, eleven rings in each ear, and all sorts of mess in their face, and I have NEVER heard about one of them being shot.” And yet, the issue of race was largely swept under the rug. ”We elect cultures that we study,” a high-ranking officer answered. “Our recruits write college papers on them and meet learning objectives and are taught a course on tolerance.” Do I have to even note the detached removal from black society that is implicit in this response?
AN UNPOPULAR ANSWER
But then, many black residents refused to take as well as they could dish out. Sam Osemene stepped forward and said some very real shit that was promptly dismissed. “Translate your anger into something positive,” he said, not to the city officials, but to those who were calling for outright revolt against the civic institutions of Austin. “We are here tonight to find solutions.” And at that, many angry black citizens stormed out, cursing Osemene. But his argument is one that resonates. Yes, it would be absurd to ask an impoverished black community to realign their value system after the APD essentially made it known that they see no need to change their policies, but that street runs two ways. If we are to demand change from our police force, we must also demand change from a community that too often is willing to view their systemic role as that of the victim and writes off all criminal transgressions as the only option of the oppressed. There is validity to that viewpoint as well, but if the circle is to be broken it will require great changes on both sides. And, of course, that means creating viable economies in our forgotten neighborhoods, but it also implies a civic renaissance in Austin’s minority communities. What Osemene was arguing for, I believe, is a society that functions for the betterment of all its citizens, and that requires the faith and effort of all of Austin’s citizens for a greater good that benefits us all. It’s a fucking shame that Osmene’s words fell on the deaf ears of both the neighborhood residents and the city representatives.
WHAT HAVE WE BECOME?
So what was said at the city meeting? Honestly, not a lot of any real resonance. The APD’s final report on the Sanders matter will be issued in 90 days, but until then there is nothing that suggests that anyone (besides maybe Acevedo) is taking this shit seriously. The tape of the shooting will probably never be released, and if history serves as any guide, the APD won’t instate any lasting changes in the way that they operate. As the meeting ended, those who’d stuck around for its entirety felt like they’d been led through a three-hour dog and pony show. “You said this shit (the shooting) was legal,” one young black man screamed out, “but you produced nothing! This was a sham.” His anger was well justified, but let’s end this with at least a sliver of hope. Latrice Clark, a very succinct speaker with a superior intellect, was the last person formally recognized to give her opinion, and her words embodied both sides of the struggle. “There’s no doubt that no one should have died here,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “We have to stop being afraid of our children.” Then she held the microphone at her side for a few seconds while she collected herself. “But I believe in Austin.”