George Floyd
Posted: Sun May 31, 2020 2:17 am
Trevor Noah on racism. Measured, and well spoken.
Wake up, white people.
Wake up, white people.
have fun, relax, but above all ARGUE!
http://www.theplanbforum.com/forum/
http://www.theplanbforum.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=20660
They interviewed the owner of the club where the two worked. Their paths never crossed. One worked weekdays. The other worked weekends. Chauvin was reprimanded by the owner for aggressiveness.
I am not going to add anything, I don’t feel like being lawyerly and unbiased here.(CNN)The criminal complaint charging former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin with third-degree murder and second-degree manslaughter for the death of George Floyd offers key clues about the Hennepin County Attorney's Office's approach to the enormously high-stakes prosecution that will unfold over the coming months.
While the complaint sets forth a strong case, it also raises questions about the prosecutors' tactical approach and commitment to seeking a full measure of justice for Floyd's tragic death.
A complaint is, essentially, a preliminary summary of evidence that prosecutors use to lodge a criminal charge and make an arrest. It is a crucial legal document but it is not final or definitive. The complaint does not necessarily set forth everything that prosecutors know now, or will learn as the investigation progresses.
I've written and approved thousands of complaints as a prosecutor, and I've learned to pick up on the indicators, overt and subtle, contained within. Every word in a complaint matters -- particularly here, where the statement of probable cause runs less than two narrative pages, and where the prosecutors know full well the entire nation is watching.
First, the lead charge itself -- third-degree murder -- is light, given the facts. Third-degree murder carries a maximum penalty of 25 years, and requires proof that the defendant committed an act "eminently dangerous to others and evincing a depraved mind, without regard for human life." In other words, prosecutors must show that Chauvin acted recklessly and dangerously, without necessarily intending to kill Floyd.
But prosecutors could have charged (and still could eventually charge) Chauvin with more serious second-degree murder, which carries a potential 40-year sentence and requires proof that the defendant intentionally killed the victim, without premeditation. The evidence seems sufficient to support such a charge -- particularly given the astonishing length of time that Chauvin kept his knee on Floyd's neck (more on this below). But prosecutors sometimes tend to be conservative in initial charges; keep an eye on whether they add the more serious second-degree charge as the case progresses.
Overall, the complaint lays out a devastating case against Chauvin -- though it adds little to the cellphone video of Chauvin kneeling on Floyd's neck. The most compelling part of the complaint is the timeline. It notes that Chauvin kept his knee on Floyd's neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. Even more damning, the complaint notes that Chauvin kept his knee on Floyd's neck for three full minutes after Floyd stopped moving and nearly two minutes after he apparently "ceas[ed] to breathe or speak." Another officer even checked Floyd's wrist for a pulse and said he couldn't find one -- and yet Chauvin still did not immediately move. Those facts alone could establish the intentional conduct necessary for a second-degree murder charge.
But the complaint also contains several warning signs that raise questions about the prosecutors' tactics and commitment to achieving full justice.
The complaint fails to note that Floyd stated "Don't kill me" and "I'm about to die." The complaint notes that, as Chauvin pressed his knee into Floyd's neck, Floyd stated "I can't breathe," "mama," and "please." Yet the prosecutors inexplicably omit some of the most important lines Floyd uttered in the video: "Don't kill me," and "I'm about to die." Floyd's statements are particularly crucial because they unequivocally put Chauvin on notice that Floyd was in mortal danger -- yet Chauvin continued kneeling on his neck. Why would prosecutors leave out the clearest and most legally pivotal statements made by Floyd?
The complaint notes that Floyd "actively resisted being handcuffed." Prosecutors have an obligation to disclose evidence that is potentially helpful to the defendant. But the detail about Floyd "actively resist[ing]" is irrelevant. What matters is not what Floyd did before he was handcuffed; what matters is what Chauvin did to Floyd after he was cuffed (rear-cuffed, no less) and debilitated. The inclusion of this detail raises questions about the prosecutors' approach. Why include this? Are they trying to harm public perception of Floyd? Are they doing a subtle (and gratuitous) favor to Chauvin's defense?
The complaint specifies that Floyd "is over six feet tall and weighs more than 200 pounds." Again, the inclusion of this extraneous detail is curious. Why do the prosecutors go out of their way to specify Floyd's bodily measurements? What's the relevance? The implication seems to be that Floyd was a large man and hence was somehow scary or difficult to restrain. So what? He was unarmed, rear-cuffed, sprawled out on the street, and outnumbered four to one by police officers.
The complaint states that the autopsy "revealed no physical findings that support a diagnosis of traumatic asphyxia or strangulation." This notation seems baffling at first glance, given the crystal-clear video of Chauvin kneeling on Floyd's neck. But the lack of "physical findings" by no means rules out the possibility that the victim died of traumatic asphyxia or strangulation. In other words, a person can die of asphyxiation with or without "physical findings."The complaint is based on "preliminary findings" from the autopsy, so we await the full report, which should follow soon.
The complaint notes that "the combined effects of Mr. Floyd being restrained by the police, his underlying health conditions and any potential intoxicants in his system likely contributed to his death." "Restrained" is a charitable way to describe what Chauvin did to Floyd on video; most would call that something closer to "crushed" or at least "pinned down." And in my 14 years as a prosecutor (or my 45 years of life), I've never heard of a "potential intoxicant." Did Floyd have intoxicants in his system or not? A basic toxicology test should answer that question conclusively, and there is no excuse for prosecutors to not know the answer, or to state it ambiguously, four days after Floyd's death. In any event, even if intoxicants and health conditions somehow contributed to Floyd's death, it does not matter legally. So long as Chauvin's actions were even a contributory cause of Floyd's death, then Chauvin is legally responsible. If Floyd would be alive if not for Chauvin's actions, then Chauvin can be convicted.
This remains a strong case overall, particularly for the conservative third-degree murder charge that prosecutors have lodged. The video remains a devastating Exhibit A, and the complaint lays out a compelling timeline. But it's hard to ignore the prosecutors' inclusion of many irrelevant and ambiguous detours in the criminal complaint that could potentially detract from the charges brought against Chauvin.
James Baldwin's interview with Kenneth Clark was hailed by The New York Times as an "unforgettable television experience that seared the conscience" of white America. Baldwin's thoughts on race relations and moral apathy are as resonant now as they were when WGBH's "Perspectives: Negro and the American Promise" aired back on June 24, 1963.
The one-on-one conversation is available in its entirety via the WGBH Media Library and Archives: https://bit.ly/2Am3M2L
BoSoxGal wrote: ↑Mon Jun 01, 2020 5:20 pmPresident Obama:
Here’s the link so you can access the hyperlinks within:As millions of people across the country take to the streets and raise their voices in response to the killing of George Floyd and the ongoing problem of unequal justice, many people have reached out asking how we can sustain momentum to bring about real change.
Ultimately, it’s going to be up to a new generation of activists to shape strategies that best fit the times. But I believe there are some basic lessons to draw from past efforts that are worth remembering.
First, the waves of protests across the country represent a genuine and legitimate frustration over a decades-long failure to reform police practices and the broader criminal justice system in the United States. The overwhelming majority of participants have been peaceful, courageous, responsible, and inspiring. They deserve our respect and support, not condemnation — something that police in cities like Camden and Flint have commendably understood.
On the other hand, the small minority of folks who’ve resorted to violence in various forms, whether out of genuine anger or mere opportunism, are putting innocent people at risk, compounding the destruction of neighborhoods that are often already short on services and investment and detracting from the larger cause. I saw an elderly black woman being interviewed today in tears because the only grocery store in her neighborhood had been trashed. If history is any guide, that store may take years to come back. So let’s not excuse violence, or rationalize it, or participate in it. If we want our criminal justice system, and American society at large, to operate on a higher ethical code, then we have to model that code ourselves.
Second, I’ve heard some suggest that the recurrent problem of racial bias in our criminal justice system proves that only protests and direct action can bring about change, and that voting and participation in electoral politics is a waste of time. I couldn’t disagree more. The point of protest is to raise public awareness, to put a spotlight on injustice, and to make the powers that be uncomfortable; in fact, throughout American history, it’s often only been in response to protests and civil disobedience that the political system has even paid attention to marginalized communities. But eventually, aspirations have to be translated into specific laws and institutional practices — and in a democracy, that only happens when we elect government officials who are responsive to our demands.
Moreover, it’s important for us to understand which levels of government have the biggest impact on our criminal justice system and police practices. When we think about politics, a lot of us focus only on the presidency and the federal government. And yes, we should be fighting to make sure that we have a president, a Congress, a U.S. Justice Department, and a federal judiciary that actually recognize the ongoing, corrosive role that racism plays in our society and want to do something about it. But the elected officials who matter most in reforming police departments and the criminal justice system work at the state and local levels.
It’s mayors and county executives that appoint most police chiefs and negotiate collective bargaining agreements with police unions. It’s district attorneys and state’s attorneys that decide whether or not to investigate and ultimately charge those involved in police misconduct. Those are all elected positions. In some places, police review boards with the power to monitor police conduct are elected as well. Unfortunately, voter turnout in these local races is usually pitifully low, especially among young people — which makes no sense given the direct impact these offices have on social justice issues, not to mention the fact that who wins and who loses those seats is often determined by just a few thousand, or even a few hundred, votes.
So the bottom line is this: if we want to bring about real change, then the choice isn’t between protest and politics. We have to do both. We have to mobilize to raise awareness, and we have to organize and cast our ballots to make sure that we elect candidates who will act on reform.
Finally, the more specific we can make demands for criminal justice and police reform, the harder it will be for elected officials to just offer lip service to the cause and then fall back into business as usual once protests have gone away. The content of that reform agenda will be different for various communities. A big city may need one set of reforms; a rural community may need another. Some agencies will require wholesale rehabilitation; others should make minor improvements. Every law enforcement agency should have clear policies, including an independent body that conducts investigations of alleged misconduct. Tailoring reforms for each community will require local activists and organizations to do their research and educate fellow citizens in their community on what strategies work best.
But as a starting point, here’s a report and toolkit developed by the Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights and based on the work of the Task Force on 21st Century Policing that I formed when I was in the White House. And if you’re interested in taking concrete action, we’ve also created a dedicated site at the Obama Foundation to aggregate and direct you to useful resources and organizations who’ve been fighting the good fight at the local and national levels for years.
I recognize that these past few months have been hard and dispiriting — that the fear, sorrow, uncertainty, and hardship of a pandemic have been compounded by tragic reminders that prejudice and inequality still shape so much of American life. But watching the heightened activism of young people in recent weeks, of every race and every station, makes me hopeful. If, going forward, we can channel our justifiable anger into peaceful, sustained, and effective action, then this moment can be a real turning point in our nation’s long journey to live up to our highest ideals.
Let’s get to work.
https://medium.com/@BarackObama/how-to- ... a209806067
There's plenty of blame to go around.
The only class I failed in my life was the touchy feely course I took long ago. FWIW, I'm not sorry.
I've never regarded the term redneck as a pejorative. Neither do most others in WV. FWIW, I'm related to the Hatfields distantly via my maternal grandmother. They're good people.