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Terence Crutcher wasn't a 'bad dude' – just a black man in America Terence Crutcher wasn't a 'bad dude' – just a black man in America Terence Crutcher wasn't a 'bad dude' – just a black man in America
(35 minutes later)
Terence Crutcher had his hands up. That didn’t stop him from being shot by Tulsa police on Friday. He was a father, a husband, a churchgoing man, a college student at the age of 40. In a video of the shooting released to the public on Monday, a man can be heard saying: “Time for a Taser,” before adding: “That looks like a bad dude, too. Probably on something.”Terence Crutcher had his hands up. That didn’t stop him from being shot by Tulsa police on Friday. He was a father, a husband, a churchgoing man, a college student at the age of 40. In a video of the shooting released to the public on Monday, a man can be heard saying: “Time for a Taser,” before adding: “That looks like a bad dude, too. Probably on something.”
Moments later, he was shot.Moments later, he was shot.
The “bad dude” line is the part that gets me. Bad cops see large-bodied black men like me and they treat us like wild game. Was Crutcher just too big, too scary, too black to live?The “bad dude” line is the part that gets me. Bad cops see large-bodied black men like me and they treat us like wild game. Was Crutcher just too big, too scary, too black to live?
This kind of thinking is why some of us fear being perceived as forceful or empowered, especially around law enforcement. We try to avoid attributes that any red-blooded American, white male is raised to embrace as a right. For men of color, death – not trouble with the law – is the consequence of getting out of line. It’s been that way since the days of colonial slave codes.This kind of thinking is why some of us fear being perceived as forceful or empowered, especially around law enforcement. We try to avoid attributes that any red-blooded American, white male is raised to embrace as a right. For men of color, death – not trouble with the law – is the consequence of getting out of line. It’s been that way since the days of colonial slave codes.
I know this well. I write in a doughnut shop several days a week. The same police officers, more or less, see me all the time. They always seem to give me an extra look over, each and every time. They have never smiled or said hello or seemed impressed by the mounds of books surrounding me. None have ever stopped to reassure me that they will look out for me or my things.I know this well. I write in a doughnut shop several days a week. The same police officers, more or less, see me all the time. They always seem to give me an extra look over, each and every time. They have never smiled or said hello or seemed impressed by the mounds of books surrounding me. None have ever stopped to reassure me that they will look out for me or my things.
One once warned me that the aspirin I was about to take (clearly marked aspirin) should be consumed or thrown away because I “would probably be locked up for probable cause of selling drugs”. Every time I stand up to stretch, the length of my body is scanned by their eyes and entire tables of law enforcement turn around to assess if big, black me is a danger.One once warned me that the aspirin I was about to take (clearly marked aspirin) should be consumed or thrown away because I “would probably be locked up for probable cause of selling drugs”. Every time I stand up to stretch, the length of my body is scanned by their eyes and entire tables of law enforcement turn around to assess if big, black me is a danger.
Of course, I want to believe the police are here for me. To believe they will protect me. But nothing in my experience, including getting hauled off a bus to be searched, or having a gun put to my head as an unarmed, immobile passenger in a traffic stop, with a white driver who moved around without restriction, has told me I have a fighting chance if I am the victim of law enforcement overreach.Of course, I want to believe the police are here for me. To believe they will protect me. But nothing in my experience, including getting hauled off a bus to be searched, or having a gun put to my head as an unarmed, immobile passenger in a traffic stop, with a white driver who moved around without restriction, has told me I have a fighting chance if I am the victim of law enforcement overreach.
You’ve probably heard of “the talk” African American parents have with their children. But there is another talk I want to have, one which I shared with friends on social media after I learned of this recent police shooting. It’s the talk about what happens if I am ever in Terence Crutcher’s place.You’ve probably heard of “the talk” African American parents have with their children. But there is another talk I want to have, one which I shared with friends on social media after I learned of this recent police shooting. It’s the talk about what happens if I am ever in Terence Crutcher’s place.
Yes, I will do my absolute best not to do anything to be considered “resisting arrest” or “not following commands”. I will sit stoically and silently. If they ever get their hands on me, I will sit silently until it’s over – though those who don’t should never be shot. But if they kill me, I hope my friends bear witness that I was not “one bad dude”.Yes, I will do my absolute best not to do anything to be considered “resisting arrest” or “not following commands”. I will sit stoically and silently. If they ever get their hands on me, I will sit silently until it’s over – though those who don’t should never be shot. But if they kill me, I hope my friends bear witness that I was not “one bad dude”.
I hope people fight for my character. I want people to remember that I loved to read and I loved to create community and that I didn’t believe in “race”, except for the human one. I loved the south and, despite her history, I tried to retell her story. I was a teacher of Torah. I was a teddy bear of a man and not a beast to shoot.I hope people fight for my character. I want people to remember that I loved to read and I loved to create community and that I didn’t believe in “race”, except for the human one. I loved the south and, despite her history, I tried to retell her story. I was a teacher of Torah. I was a teddy bear of a man and not a beast to shoot.
I hope they remember: I wasn’t “one bad dude”. I was a strong, black man.I hope they remember: I wasn’t “one bad dude”. I was a strong, black man.