Black Lives Matter
Although the phrase “Black lives matter” was created in 2013 in response to the murder of Trayvon Martin and the acquittal of George Zimmerman, the undertone for this phrase has existed for centuries. Since the 1800’s, Black people have been fighting for true equality, which has since led to significant progress for socio-economic rights of Black people in comparison to the past. Nonetheless, this underlying cry for true equality implied in the phrase “Black lives matter” has often been met with an odd resistance that merely perpetuates anti-Black racism. With this in mind, this story discusses and analyzes the challenges and concerns that severely impact the Black community. This story begins through a retrospective lens; in order to understand our current situation and where we’re heading, we must look to the past to assess and understand where we’ve come from.
With the killing of George Floyd in 2020, there seemed to be a cultural awakening that we haven’t witnessed in decades, pushing a dynamic shift in societal and political attention towards race related issues. With this story, I look back at these cases and use, my experience as a Black man, the lived experiences of Black people, and data, to assess and shed light on Black issues while advocating for evidence-based change. I use this story to constantly remind us that BLM is not a moment, a trend, or something relevant only when media chooses it to be. Beyond the headlines, and when the social media support subsides, I want you to always remember this: Black Lives Matter.
At the core of the the Capitol Hill riot on January 6, 2021, was a disgusting, inexcusable, and shameful attack on America’s liberal democracy; however, and most importantly, it also brought to the forefront an undeniable fact about America: Black people are treated significantly differently and unscrupulously worse than their White counterparts. With the occurrence of this attack in front of the world, US leaders were forced to confront an issue and message being screamed for years: Black Lives Matter.
Black lives matter. To many this phrase or statement is a matter of fact and way of life, and for these people there is a clear understanding that saying ‘Black lives matter’ isn’t an attempt to alienate other groups. Yet, somehow this socio-political movement that aims to uplift the Black community has been twisted, vilified, and combined with erroneous doctrines. Here, I discuss the essence of BLM and debunk myths related to the movement.
In my early years as a child, I lived in an apartment complex in a low-income community in Mississauga filled with Black people. Being there, I saw and experienced much; but at a young age I learned valuable lessons that continue to influence how I maneuver through social spaces and perceive and understand the most pressing issues facing the Black community. In Chapter 2 of BLM, I use my lived experience to add layered context to the plight of Black people.
On May 25, 2020, the world as we knew it changed. On this day, we all bore witness to the killing of George Floyd by police officer Derek Chauvin, who knelt on Floyd’s neck for nearly nine minutes. On June 12, 2020, one of the most moving and thought-provoking responses to the death of George Floyd was released. On this day, Dave Chappelle released a special named “8:46”, addressing Floyd’s death, police brutality, and the ongoing protests at the time. Now, being over a year since it’s release and having reflected on these events, I revisit Chappelle’s “8:46” to discuss Floyd’s global impact on the fight to dismantle systemic racism.
As a global society in order to push towards a more inclusive and egalitarian world, I believe uncomfortable conversations are crucial. As Black people pressing for change, the time has come for us to have one of these uncomfortable internal conversations about our approach and rhetoric in certain situations. The intent in writing this piece is to urge self reflection as we proceed with our mission to elevate Black people. I question whether some of our tactics are effective or, if it does more harm than good? I’ll let you be the judge.
Uprisings (protesting and rioting) aren’t new phenomena. Especially not in the America which has a long history of rioting. For race related issues Black people have used non-violent and violent protests as forms of resistance—methods I consider necessary during the civil rights era. These methods have costs; costs that have long-lasting effects on Black people and Black communities. As a result of the 2020 protests, some may have to deal these costs. But I question whether these are costs we should be willing to pay, or is there a better way?
On November 9, 2021, the Louisville Metro Police Merit Board began hearing the case of former Louisville Metro Police detective Myles Cosgrove who is seeking to regain his job after being fired for fatally shooting Breonna Taylor. This comes after nearly two years of people calling out “Justice for Breonna Taylor,” “Say her name,” and “Arrest the cops who killed Breonna Taylor.” I too join with the millions of voices shouting, “Justice for Breonna Taylor.” But I do so for different reasons—reasons which seem difficult or wrong to accept; but upon further looking at the case I’ve found the details of Breonna’s life and the sequence of events that led to her death to be extremely complex. And it’s led me to question—question if Breonna’s death truly was a racial issue. To many the answer to this question is clear cut; but to me, this is a layered case with a clear indication that the American law enforcement and legal systems overarchingly have maintain policies and practices.
The overall execution of no-knock raids in Louisville adds another layer to this case. According to the Louisville Courier Journal (the Courier), no-knock warrants are more frequently used against Black and Brown Americans, while SWAT teams—which are heavily utilized in raids—are also more likely to be deployed on Black and Latinos than on White people. How does this impact our understanding of Breonna Taylor?
Among Black communities in Western societies, there’s an understanding—or more so a social fact—that Black people are subject to greater and disproportionate levels of discrimination by law enforcement institutions and officials. Ingratiated in this social fact is the belief that Black people are disproportionately killed by police officers at an alarming rate, and that race plays a significant role in the killing of Black people. To many this is a fact backed by data they can point to. And I’ll admit, for years this has been my understanding. But after reflecting, and researching the accuracy of these beliefs, I now believe it’s time to shift our focus.
It tends to be the case that in Canada, the Black Canadian experience becomes muffled and often overshadowed by American storylines. In some ways I’ve contributed to this problem. I acknowledge this. Because of this, what currently exists in this story of Black Lives is a failure to unpack the historical underpinnings of Black people in Canadian society and current relations between the police and Canadian society. Much of this history isn’t common knowledge. And in many ways, we lack this knowledge because it’s not taught in our education system. So it seems as though, in some ways, Canadian history has been framed and taught in a way that erases its darkness and the contributions of Black Canadians. With this in mind, I’ve used this piece to address this gap in this story of Black lives and make connections from Canada’s past to present conditions.
In July 2020, Scot Wortley and Maria Jung submitted a report to the Ontario Human Rights Commission titled, Racial Disparity in Arrests and Charges: An Analysis of Arrest and Charge Data from the Toronto Police Service. I draw on this study to evaluate racial disparities in the Toronto Police Service (TPS). Overall, this study find evidence of racial discrimination in the TPS through a number of factors.
In July 2020, Scot Wortley released a second report in collaboration with Ayobami Lanlyonu, and Erick Laming titled, Use of Force by the Toronto Police Service. In this report they examine the racial differences in the Toronto Police Service (TPS) use of force. They examined two periods of time: 2000-2006, and 2013-2017. In doing so, they found that Black people were significantly over-represented in the Government of Ontario’s Special Investigation Unit cases involving the Toronto Police Service.
The deaths of George Floyd, Regis Korchinski-Paquet in Toronto, and the interactions of Black people with the Toronto Public Service led to a virtual public meeting on August 18, 2020, by the Toronto Public Services Board (The Board) for police reform in Toronto. In particular, they discussed systemic racism, alternative community safety and crisis response models, and building confidence in public safety. They did so with the intention to discuss working collaboratively with the community to design a model that best responds to systemic racism.
To achieve this reimagined role, 81 recommendations were presented. These recommendations include some of the following areas: alternative community safety response models; police training; police budget and budgetary transparency; independent auditing and service accountability; chief selection criteria; information-sharing and transparency; conduct accountability; and consultation with experts and communities. Across these categories I found some notable points to consider.
Over the years, I’ve seen that efforts to lobby for the defunding of the police have been met with resistance, giving many pause, particularly because of the use of one word in this phrase; the word defund. I recognize why. I understand that the use of the word defund presents these calls for change as a radical movement. I understand the denotation of the word ‘defund’ means to cease from providing funding to an institution, agency, or person. Intuitively, this is perceived as a threat on our liberal democracy. I use this piece to discuss the implications of defunding the police in an effort to push us to think about how to effectively and contextually reimagine the role of the police.
On April 4, 2022, 26-year-old Patrick Lyoya was fatally shot in the back of the head by an officer from the Grand Rapids Police Department (GRPD) in Michigan. I believe Lyoya’s death leads us to a larger discussion on policing policies and practices. With this in mind, I use this piece to discuss the problems with police training and policies to identify areas for improvement, doing so using the American context as a foundation for this discussion.
As BLM protests have carried on over the years, there are often times where we are met with the question, if Black lives matter, what about Black-on-Black crime? I’ve long heard many, including Black people, ask this question. In fact, the earliest modern references to Black-on-Black crime came from Black media in 1979. In some respects, this represents a reasonable question from those who are truly concerned about Black people killing each other for asinine reasons. In other respects, this isn’t merely a question asked from sincere concern or fearfulness. In actuality, it’s a statement suggesting that if Black lives truly mattered to Black people—if we truly believed what we were saying when we shout “Black lives matter,” then Black people wouldn’t be killing each other at epic proportions.
Over the years, I’ve internally wrestled with public narratives, theories, and debates of Black-on-Black crime. And although my position has consistently alternated during this internal struggle, I’ve settled within myself that the concept of Black-on-Black crime is an extremely complex phenomena that can’t be viewed in an explicitly theoretical or practical fashion. I use this piece to discuss the ideologies of Black-on-Black crime, and the reality of violent crime in the Black community.
The fairness and impact of affirmative action on employment and educational outcomes for racialized—but specifically Black and Latino—communities has long dominated headlines because of the heated political and legal debates it brings. In this piece I’ve chosen to focus on the diverging perspectives in the affirmative action debate in relation to Black people. In doing this, I hope to answer two questions: first, what will produce the best outcomes for Black people? And second, what is fairness in relation to access to education and employment outcomes?
For years I settled on the understanding that affirmative action increases upward mobility and Black socio-economic status; yet I find myself questioning, is this the right approach?
Last night, I sat down and watched over 60 minutes of footage of Tyre Nichols from January 7th. I did it because I wanted to know exactly what happened. “I hope they stomp his ass,” Preston Hemphill said in the first video when Tyre ran from being unexplainably tasered and dragged out of his car. This was just the beginning of a brutal beating that would end with Tyre dying just days later.
Three weeks after the incident, five police officers were fired and subsequently charged with second-degree murder. With this happening, I believe there are some key takeaways to consider. I look to discuss them in detail here.
In one of my most recent conversations, British Columbia was mentioned as an area with a rich Black history—something that caught me off guard. What I realized during this conversation was how little I knew about Black history in Western Canada, making me further question how much other Canadians knew as well? So, I decided to dive into the richness of BC’s Black history to understand how it has influenced current conditions.
Up until recently, I didn’t know that Amber Valley was a unique Black community about 170 kilometers north of Edmonton. It shocked me to find out that the history of this small community is one that is on the verge of being forgotten. Continuing the focus on sharing my learnings of Canada’s Black history, I use this piece to spotlight one of the biggest settlements in Western Canada.
Today marks the last day of Black mental health week of 2023 in Toronto. Being so, I wanted to hold space for this conversation to reflect on my own experiences, and shed light on the mental health challenges for Black people living in low-income, high-crime, or racist environments. My hope is to bring attention to the gap that exists in our Black mental health conversations and services, as our approach in some circumstances have neglected some of our community members that need these resources the most.
For as long as I can remember there’s been a debate about how to contextualize the plight of Black people. This debate has created a fixed cultural divide, with people on both sides arguing whether or not the social determinants of health, income, and crime are relevant to the current conditions of Black people. If you have read previous chapters, it’s no secret that I believe social determinants are relevant to the current conditions of Black people. And although I don’t point to a single factor in history or presently as the main cause of present conditions, I do believe the cumulative effects of myriad systems of overt and covert oppression is what we are seeing manifested today in Black communities.
With this in mind, my aim in this piece is to systematically walk through how the layering of the multiple systems of oppression that Black Canadians have had to navigate have aided in creating current conditions.
Entrepreneurship is a lever for economic empowerment and upward mobility. For the Black community, it’s often endorsed as a formula for financial autonomy and a route to success. Despite this positive perception, the road towards prosperity has not been smooth. At large, Black businesses face various challenges that affect their profitability and sustainability. As such, the main question I wish to grapple with is what are these challenges, and why might they exist?
In recent years, government bodies and advocacy groups in Toronto have validated what Black advocates have long highlighted: predominantly Black communities are over-policed. Yet there is another truth that often goes unheard and unresearched—some Black residents affirm that their neighbourhoods are in fact under-policed. While these perspectives may seem contradictory, both are rooted in the reality of how policing operates within Black communities.