A strange moment draped in protest

There is a strangeness to New York right now.

The Manhattan Bridge roadway more normally reserved for cars has been, again and again, taken over by walkers and bikes. There are dance-party protests in Brooklyn, one of the centers of demonstration over George Floyd’s death at the hands of Minneapolis police. A man in a Spiderman costume directs an ambulance out of traffic. Helicopters buzz, windows have been broken. Crowds have gathered in masks, close together, chanting, walking through neighborhoods that had been quiet for weeks because of coronavirus fears.

There is the deadly pandemic and there is an uprising, at the same moment.

Other protests away from city centers have the same message, and create similar unusual scenes. Cars convoy to Hauppauge for a vehicle demonstration, walkers eye the Meadowbrook Parkway. While shoppers talking about looters line up to buy guns, thousands have protested peacefully across Long Island, for days. With every step they are creating a new normal, the strange scenes giving fuel to the question: How far will things go?

Strangest of all may have been the days of curfew in New York City. Until it ended on Sunday, the city where lunchtime might be 5 p.m. or so was nominally shut down at 11 p.m., then 8. Except it wasn’t. Marchers kept marching. People went for jogs and drove cars. A certain Crown Fried Chicken whose location I won’t divulge because I’m not a rat was open near midnight one night, to customer joy.

There were fires set and windows broken and police cars vandalized and some cops injured or threatened.

Many police officers were part of the confusion, too. Dozens of officers have died of COVID-19, and many cops patrol without masks. They stand in riot gear in front of corporate emblems, they sweat and smoke cigars. They listen as protesters, including white marchers, call them racist pigs (whether they’re black, white, or Hispanic). And sometimes they have attacked, with batons or pepper spray or car doors.

Sometimes the threat and the courtesy are jammed together. As with the police car following bikers down Court Street in Brooklyn one recent night, speeding up and slowing down inches from protesters. “Please be careful,” an officer intones.

Something is shifting, something is happening. Hundreds of current and former staffers sign a letter about Mayor Bill de Blasio’s failures on policing and racial justice issues and march from City Hall — his own men and women.

In Albany, some message is received, anyway. Six years after Eric Garner’s death on Staten Island, the Eric Garner Anti-Chokehold Act criminalizes an officer’s chokehold that causes serious physical injury or death. Suddenly after an odyssey of advocating from activists, an obscure but consequential section of a state law gets tweeted about by the Jonas Brothers and Mariah Carey. The section, 50-a, which was used to shield findings of police misconduct, is repealed.

The strangeness has reached opinion polls in which, for example, 69% of Americans say Floyd’s killing reflects a broader problem with law enforcement. In 2014, just 43% described recent police killings indicating broader problems in policing.

Marches have happened, police-reform laws have been passed, but the moment’s not over. The pandemic continues. Minds are mulling the essential American problem. And still there are protests in the streets. Still the strangeness is here. Still people are waiting for even more to change.

Mark Chiusano is a member of Newsday's editorial board.

By Mark Chiusano

mark.chiusano@newsday.commjchiusano

Mark Chiusano is a member of the Newsday editorial board.