I've watched George Floyd die more than a dozen times. Retirement, a pandemic and recovery from a spinal cord injury allow more than ample time to watch live coverage of the trial of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. As the world knows, Chauvin has been charged with second-degree unintentional murder, third-degree murder and second-degree manslaughter. Second-degree murder carries the heftiest potential penalty - up to 40 years in prison.
As I write, the prosecution is nearing the end of their presentation. The case seems compelling but, of course, the defense is yet to present their case for acquittal, or at least convincing one or more jurors of reasonable doubt.
The widely seen bystander video and the body camera footage from Chauvin and other officers are horrifying to watch. Chauvin’s apparent smug indifference as he kneels on Floyd’s neck violates all sense of decency. Undisputed evidence indicates that Chauvin was unmoved, physically and emotionally, for more than three minutes after Floyd took his last, futile breath.
Others are more qualified than I to analyze the necessary elements of proof, particularly when the medical evidence as to cause of death is complex and disputed. But some aspects of the case do seem clear, despite the defense counsel’s effort to besmirch George Floyd’s character in court filings and cross-examination.
l have seen all the videos offered as evidence - several times . Floyd was never combative. From the beginning of the police interaction he was terribly frightened and agitated. He could have and should have been seated on a curb and talked with, soothingly. This is a perfect example of why compassionate mental health personnel must be involved when a citizen is in clear distress. I've worked with frightened, agitated men like George Floyd and they need understanding and patience, not a cruel, relentless knee on the neck.
But I don’t write primarily to parse the legal details of the case. The subtext throughout the trial is race. While the judge in the case specifically instructed the jury that the case is neither about race nor the national concerns over police misconduct, race is a constant looming presence in the courtroom.
The frustrating irony is that the prosecution has not addressed this glaringly obvious factor, but the case for the defense rests on racist tropes as clearly as Chauvin’s knee relentlessly “rested” on Floyd’s neck.
The lawyer for the defense has repeatedly characterized the neighborhood as dangerous, despite the citizen videographer, Darnella Frazier, testifying that she walks comfortably in the neighborhood at all hours. A very vocal eyewitness, Donald Williams, was portrayed as the stereotypical angry black man, despite his nearly endearing testimony during which he admitted that he had been outraged, but proud of his “professionalism.” Like all the other eyewitnesses at the scene, he was compliant and cooperative with police demands to stay on the curb.
The defense implied that the witnesses were a threatening “mob,” distracting Chauvin and the other police officers. The small group of onlookers - about a dozen - ranged in age from nine to 61, racially mixed, and universally cooperative, despite their obvious and understandable distress. I’ve been more frightened by middle school recess!
Floyd’s last words included a deeply sad plea, “I’m not a bad guy.” His family and friends described him as a gentle giant. His girlfriend talked about him with real tenderness. The Cup Foods cashier, to whom Floyd handed a counterfeit $20 bill, testified that Floyd appeared “high,” but was affable and completely coherent. That young black man said he felt profound guilt for having reported the transaction to his manager, triggering the events that led to Floyd’s death. The then 17 year-old Darnella Frazier, who took the video, tearfully apologized to the memory of George Floyd for not doing more to save him.
All the members of the “mob” that witnessed this brutal murder showed the compassion, humanity and integrity totally absent in Chauvin and the other complicit officers.
It may be an overused device, but it is nonetheless instructive, to consider a hypothetical scenario where the facts are unchanged but the races of the characters are reversed.
Imagine a white man, perhaps under the influence of Oxycontin, lying in the street in a working class, majority white, neighborhood in Alabama. Three black police officers are kneeling on his helpless body, indifferent to his cries for mercy or the pleas of his white neighbors. Might the outcome be different?
Regardless of the eventual verdict, this case is all about race. It is about manhandling and asphyxiating a Black man for the minor offense of, perhaps unknowingly, passing a counterfeit bill. It is about making a violent, racist caricature of a gentle man. It is about characterizing a courageous witness as an angry Black man. It is about portraying an addicted Black man as a menace, while addicted white folks have a health issue that elicits sympathy.
It is, in its entirety, an example of Black Lives Mattering less, whether in a group of concerned neighbors or in a Black body pressed hard into the pavement by three policemen until the last weak breath left his body . . . and then continuing to press for more than three minutes.
Count to 180, slowly, and imagine your knee on a still-warm corpse. Derek Chauvin didn’t imagine that. He did it.