Black Lives, White Boys and Muslim Matters
Reconciling racism, Islamophobia and parental guidance for an Asian son
The sadness never ends: Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, Michael Brown, Philando Castile, George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Jacob Blake and too many others.
All of these deaths are tragic, but it usually takes one incident to stick in your gut each time a new shooting occurs. Trayvon Martin went to the store for Skittles and a drink, where was the threat? George Zimmerman was determined to exercise pistol power over personal safety and restraint. As tragic as the Trayvon Martin killing was, it is not the one that sickens me the most.
Tamir Rice was a 12 year-old boy playing outside with a replica toy gun. I have three brothers. We all grew up playing Cowboys and Indians, Army soldiers or Civil War battles with plastic guns, plastic swords, sticks and Johnny Reb and Union caps. We dashed and darted and hid behind trees, trash cans and cars all over the neighborhood. That was the norm.
Tamir rambled along in a city park in Cleveland playacting out shooting scenarios like any other kid would do with a toy gun. The police dispatcher got a call about a male pointing a pistol at random people, but failed to inform police officers that the caller also reported that the pistol is “probably fake” and that the person is “probably a juvenile.” This is the first point of failure and culpability.
Tamir sat on a picnic table under a gazebo, stood up and walked towards the sidewalk. A police cruiser streaked across the grass and was still rolling when an officer opened his door and shot him. Within seconds, Tamir laid on the ground. He was shot at two times and hit once.
The surveillance video is very disturbing to watch. Tamir’s 14-year old sister, when trying to reach him, was tackled by the officers, handcuffed and put in the patrol car. Four minutes passed before anyone attended to him. There is no sense of urgency to assist the wounded from anyone, not by the detective and FBI agent assisting from a bank robbery, nor the paramedics called in. It was just another day in the park dealing with a Black kid with a gunshot. Tamir died the next day.
From a public eye perspective, how many points of failure are there in this tragedy? From a law enforcement perspective, how common is this scenario? An investigation by a retired FBI agent sums up the reality, it found Rice’s death to be justified on the basis that the police officer’s “response was a reasonable one.”
No. It was not reasonable, nor justified. It was avoidable and tragic. It’s all about escalation. America is awash in escalation. The fear of Black men and boys, the fear of minorities, the fear of cops, the fear of immigrants, the fear of gangs, the fear of looting, the fear of terrorists, etc. This fear is a disease; it is not a security precaution. It allows for escalation to prevail in a split second.
It marks people, mostly those of color, as targets for escalation, with no time for limited engagement, discussion or observation. Tasers, choke holds and firing multiple rounds are the weapons of choice over deescalation.
I am Tamir Rice. My brothers are Tamir Rice. But as White boys, we never had to worry about being feared by the residents or having the cops roll up the street and start shooting. We just got chased out of the next-door neighbor’s yard.
This week NBA players, lead by the Milwaukee Bucks, decided to boycott playoff games to protest the shooting of Jacob Blake in Kenosha, Wisconsin. It was a spontaneous reaction to the helplessness of living in a faraway sports bubble, but wanting to express outrage and sympathy for your local community. Emotions ran high for everyone. The coach of the Los Angeles Clippers, Doc Rivers, gave the most poignant message to sum up the frustration and the inverse of the real fear in America.
What stands out to me is … and watching this Republican Convention … they’re spewing this fear … all you hear them talk about is fear. We’re the ones getting killed. We’re the ones getting shot. We’re the ones that were denied to live in certain communities. We’ve been hung. We’ve been shot. And all you do is keep caring about fear. It’s amazing to me, why we keep loving this country. And this country does not love us back. It’s just really so sad.
… I didn’t want to talk about it [Jacob Blake shooting] before the game, because it’s so hard. I just keep watching it, that video. If you watch that video, you don’t need to be Black to be outraged. You need to be American and outraged. And how dare the Republicans talk about fear. We’re the ones that need to be scared. We’re the ones having to talk to every Black child.
What White father has to give his son a talk about being careful if you get pulled over?
I’ve lived in Malaysia for the last twenty years. In the interim, the September 11 attack, the invasion of Iraq, al-Qaeda and ISIS have dominated the American mindset. As a White father of a mixed Asian, Muslim child, I get very apprehensive about sending my kid to college in America. I know everything about racism, ignorance of foreign matters, the prevalence of guns, the aggressive nature and the mob mentality that exists in the USA. But my son doesn’t know a damn thing.
It was a bit startling to reconcile, but - OMG! - I have to have the “talk” with my son.
Asian youth have a fascination with American culture. It dominates their music and movie entertainment, along with the popular South Korean K-Pop bands and Taiwanese bubble tea drinks. They learn (in the broadest sense) a lot from watching YouTube videos and playing video games.
Rap music owns the earbuds. Thus, young Asians are enamored by the N-word. They find titillation and solidarity by singing it out and speaking it to their “homies”. For them it’s just a cool thing to do. They have no framework or context to fit it in to.
Teaching my son about race in America comes down to one maxim. The N in the N-word stands for “Never”. Never say it, never sing it, never mouth it, never quote it … Never! I grew up in the 60s and 70s, so the N-word was always nasty and negative. There was never any good intentions or solidarity. It was a weapon, not a word.
For Muslims in America, there is no N-word equivalent, but there’s a whole mess of prejudice, disdain, slur words and pre-conditioned hatred. It’s a minefield of manufactured animosity, cultural ignorance and another enemy (read Islamic terrorists) for the nation to rally against.
How does an American father explain the dichotomy of the American character? While one part is blind to reason, the other part is extraordinary. Now add to the mix of trouble - white supremacy, open carry weapons, rage and anger, alcohol and meth, and a sense of overzealous national pride - and you have the ingredients for a tragedy to occur.
In America, my son can most likely pass for a White person. That’s from the outside. But all his sensibilities are Asian. All his life experience is mixed with Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian cultures. And that’s just the kaleidoscope within the confines of our condominium complex. His frame of reference does not include observing or integrating the Black experience.
For a father trying to protect his child from potential harm, there is no threshold of comfort provided across the American landscape. For an African-American father, the stakes, and the fear, are a thousand times higher. My son was born in 2000, a year before 9/11. I purposely choose a Muslim-Christian name as a defense mechanism. Growing up in America prepared me for prejudice more than I ever thought was going to be necessary.
Covid-19 shut down plans last March to send our son to college in California. However, that decision is still pending.
The NBA players and coaches are trying to decide how best to deal with their anger and frustration, the remaining season, and their impatience for meaningful change and real reform. The question they are trying to answer is how do they use their platform and position to push the agenda for racial justice now, not later?
Justice seems to be forever pending for too many African-Americans killed by the escalating fear of over militarized police forces, overzealous law enforcement officers and a collective national dysfunction over racism and respect.
It is in this moment that I wonder whether my son’s American experience, if it happens, will include a full view of racism and prejudice in its ugliest manifestations.
My appreciation to you for taking the time to read these selections and essays. I hope you find some enjoyment and insights about the world we live in. Thanks for supporting and sharing Continental Drift.
— Rick Scobi (@rickscobi)