Williams: Of black men, cops, justice and hope
Hazel Dukes, president of the NAACP New York State Conference, speaks at a press conference on May 12, 2012, outside the Thomas H. Slater Center in White Plains, calling for a thorough investigation into the November death of Kenneth Chamberlain Sr., who was fatally shot by a White Plains police officer. A Westchester County grand jury cleared officers in the death, but federal officials announced last week they would review the case. Credit: Lee Higgins
Forgive a black man living in the lower Hudson Valley if he doesn't seem very trusting of white police officers or grand juries right about now.
In just the past few weeks, two grand juries on opposing banks of the Hudson River decided against indicting two white police officers who shot and killed two black men in separate incidents in White Plains and Spring Valley. And just slightly more than a year ago, a different team of jurors determined that police officers weren't responsible for killing a Pace University student-athlete outside a Thornwood restaurant.
If I didn't know better, I might actually think it's open season on black men. But I refuse to believe that. Perhaps it's because I'm the mother of two young black men. Or because I'm married to a black man. Or perhaps because I'm the daughter of a black man. I have to believe that police are not maliciously conniving to kill black men. If I don't ascribe to that, my hope in good triumphing over evil is completely lost. And a life that lacks that kind of hope doesn't offer much.
Local groups like the Westchester chapter of Blacks in Law Enforcement and a local chapter of the NAACP are keeping the topics at the top of the news, in an attempt to force further scrutiny. That's certainly welcome.
In the three instances -- the fatal shootings of Danroy "D.J." Henry, a Pace University student and football player in October 2010, of Kenneth Chamberlain Sr. of White Plains, a 68-year-old former Marine and retired correction officer in November 2011, and of Herve Gilles, a 48-year-old Spring Valley man who suffered from paranoid schizophrenia and was gunned down by police in December 2011 -- many of us hoped strongly, perhaps even prayed, that police would be indicted. We wanted someone to be held responsible for the raw anguish that all three families have experienced. And perhaps one or more indictments would have silenced the opinionated bloggers, writers and others who erupted on the scene, maintaining that Henry, Chamberlain and Gilles caused their own demises.
Yes, the grand juries have delivered their verdicts, but these cases are far from done. In the Chamberlain case, members of the White Plains/Greenburgh chapter of the NAACP, standing along with fellow members from Binghamton, Buffalo, Elmira and Rochester announced Saturday that they are seeking a federal investigation into that case, along with what they've called "a pattern of police harassment" among black residents in this area. And there have been similar calls for additional investigations of the Henry and Gilles cases.
Certainly, these inquiries should happen. But what black men and others should glean from the legal process is that setbacks don't always predict failure. If nothing else, these killings and the ensuing rallies for justice have allowed us to realize that many of the same issues that affect life in New York City -- such as racial injustice and police brutality -- don't stop at the city's limits. Those concerns ring true here too, and chants of "No Justice, No Peace" don't seem at all foreign to people in White Plains, Spring Valley or Thornwood, and beyond.
There's obviously lots of work left to do, to keep hope intact.
Gayle T. Williams, a journalist for nearly 30 years, lives in Greenburgh. She's an editor at Consumer Reports. The opinions expressed here are her own.
