No one knows why this 1994 clip of the ABC sitcom Family Matters started making rounds on the internet this summer. But many people have pointed to it as a sad reminder of how long black communities have been targeted for police harassment, and how long it’s been a such a big part of our national consciousness that pop culture reflected it. I know that we sighed together, thinking about being in this same boat 22 years later.
Before this clip Sgt. Carl Winslow has confronted a couple of white cops who pulled over his son Eddie and brutalized him during the traffic stop. They confirm Eddie’s story; They stopped him for being a black kid in the wrong part of town. In this clip, Eddie bristles at the idea that the only thing he could do to fight back was to file a complaint with the very department that had abused him.
I feel you, Eddie. I feel you.
Watching the videos again today, they stung in a new way. The Minneapolis Police Conduct Oversight Commission (PCOC) just released a report confirming that police intentionally block civilians from filing complaints against officers. Not only can you not expect police to adequately investigate police misconduct, you can’t even rely on them to take reports of misconduct from community members.
According to the report:
The Office of Police Conduct Review assigned three attorneys to each of Minneapolis’ five police precincts to make hypothetical complaints. They dropped in at different times during the day over several weeks, and were told to be polite, but firm. They were to strictly follow the basic, two-step process listed on the city’s website.
But the testers were turned away 13 of the 15 times they tried to make a complaint.
This certainly squares with my personal experience.
Last spring, a friend and I saw a show at a downtown Minneapolis jazz club. We were all smiles and laughs when we got to the lot where her car was parked. We passed by a group of young black men, nodded hello, and got into her car. Suddenly a police car entered the lot and officers began to harass the young men. Because life has taught us so much about how this could go wrong, deadly wrong, we didn’t pull away, but watched the interaction from the vehicle.
My friend got out to watch more closely, as is her right, and I joined her. One of the officers immediately approached us and zeroed in on my friend and ignored me. (I’m convinced it’s because they read her, in her androgyny, as another black boy.) They tried to get us away from the scene. First they suggested we were a bad influence on the boys who’d started recording the encounter when two of their friends were detained. “If you’re gonna stay here, then they’re gonna think it’s ok.” Then, he violently grabbed my friend’s arm and when she pulled away from him, shouted “Are you trying to assault an officer?” Since that moment, I’ve paid close attention to how police officers loudly claim a false version of events. I believe they are intentionally creating a story to justify their violence to passersby.
He grabbed her arm again and when she pulled away again, twisted it behind her back until she thought it would break. He said if she didn’t listen then she was going to get what was coming to her. I stepped in closer, but froze because I thought he might react more violently to my friend. Suddenly, the two officers left us all alone, released the detained boys, and left the scene.
It was horrifying. We checked in with the boys and started making calls right away. I called police brutality activists and she called 911 to figure out how to report what just happened to her. The entire process of trying to file a complaint with MPD was a nightmare which compounded the trauma for days and days afterward.
As a witness and friend, I went with her every step of the way. Every step of the way she was told she needed to talk to someone else. The 911 operator said she needed to call the precinct. Precinct staff said she needed to talk to someone at the officers’ precinct in person, which is a lie. We each filed a complaint online and then went to the precinct in person. There they told us we would need to go to Internal Affairs. At Internal Affairs they told us we needed to go to the officers’ precinct and speak with his captain. We told IA the captain refused to even give us the name of the officer, and IA said that’s public information, but that they couldn’t give it to us, nor take our complaint. We went to the police chief’s office where literally no one would talk to us until the deputy chief happened to walk by. He told us we needed to go to Civil Rights and escorted us up there, where we likely would have received no help without him. And then that was a multi-step, multi-day process which staff told us would result in no action against the officers.
There is almost never any disciplinary action against the officers.
We were fortunate enough to have community members and activists at our side for each of these botched visits. They had the energy and stamina, and pushed us to keep fighting through discouragement. I know people with less support would have just given up. And that’s what MPD intends for them to do. It’s what they intended for us to do.
So why are we still trusting police departments with any part of investigating police misconduct?
Thandisizwe Chimurenga has a great take on the PCOC report, with a nod to how BLM protests have successfully moved the needle in one precinct. Read it here.