With the ubiquity of smartphones and dash and body cameras, there is ample footage to expose police violence and grab the nation’s attention. In a virtually unlimited digital space, the images spread fast and far. Footage has refuted police accounts, revealed crucial facts withheld from families of victims, and sparked campaigns for justice and reform.
Yet because the images of police violence are so pervasive, they inflict a unique harm on viewers, particularly African Americans, who see themselves and those they love in these fatal encounters. This recognition becomes a form of violence in and of itself—and even more so when justice is denied.
Read the story in The New Republic.
Musa Sega, a street vendor in Harlem, is one of many black people in the country who, frustrated by a string of police shootings and the tenor of politics nationally, pulled his money from a global bank chain and opened an account at a black-operated bank, one of just 22 such institutions in the country. “I gotta go black,” Sega said. “We gotta support our community. We gotta support our people.” (The New Republic)
Philadelphia’s housing authority bought a high school. It hopes the institution can help reverse the fortunes of one of the city’s poorest areas. (The Hechinger Report)
In a criminal justice system that processes misery day in and day out, there is a question whether the new Bronx district attorney, criticized as a former judge in the Kalief Browder case, can truly bring reform. (The Undefeated )
A new documentary titled “The Lost Arcade” serves as a scorned love letter to the Chinatown Fair and all it once represented. (The New Yorker)
Advocates have renewed efforts to train residents how to avoid deadly encounters with police – while awaiting reform. (The Atlantic)
Lezley McSpadden goes on a tour to discuss her memoir about losing her son, who was shot and killed by police, “to represent,” she says, their side of the story. (The New Yorker)