Unknown Buddhist

We all have faith. Everyone believes in something. For some, it’s God voicing piercing morning prayer. For others, it’s faith of love in another. It could be faith that our elevators work, the automobile in the next lane will not crash or the pilot will land an aircraft perfectly. We all have faith that ice cream cones will taste heavenly. The rain will quench the farm field next door, or the shores of Eastsound will quiet a restless heart.

Paul Torday’s novel Salmon Fishing in Yemen captured faith’s essence:

“I had belief. I did not know, or for the moment care, what exactly it was I had to believe in. I only knew that belief in something was the first step away from believing in nothing, the first step away from a world which only recognized what it could count, measure, sell or buy. The people here still had that innocent power of belief: not the angry denial of other people’s belief of religious fanatics, but a quiet affirmation. That was what I sensed here, in this land and in this place, which made it so different from home. It was not the clothes, not the language, not the customs, not the sense of being in another century. It was none of these. It was the pervading presence of belief.”

So how can the poor give unto the rich and how can the rich give unto the poor. This is exactly what the love of my life taught. Karen first taught to learn to believe in universal love. At the time, I couldn’t understand her, yet I could see it. Still, Karen’s level of commitment overpowered me and I hid from the depth power surrounding me. Thus, she wasn’t able to see me through the journey I so desperately wanted to endure.

Obviously, there’s an essential key second lesson: in my continual effort to keep and enrich Karen’s spirit, if I can hear God in my most meditative moments, then I have faith Ferguson, Chicago, New York, Detroit or anyone can achieve a beautiful blend of faith and works. That the God so seemingly absent, is so ever present. He can and does thrust the sword of love into our hearts and chaffs away the seeds of hatred. As Marcus Luttrell wrote, “No matter how much it hurts, how dark it gets, or how far you fall, you are never out of the fight.”

Third, leadership is not just having the vision of change; it’s the ability to effect change. The vision must empower people to succeed; to become the community, the home and person you want to be. In the movie, A League of Their Own, Dottie Hinson tells Jimmy Duggan “It just got too hard.” Jimmy replied, “It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard … is what makes it great.”

Remember, the hard makes us great.

In a speech directed toward the Greater St. Marks Family Church this past Sunday, Al Sharpton’s vitriol spewed from many angles and can be summarized accordingly:

“Michael Brown is gone. You can run whatever video you want. He is not on trial. America is on trial! I have never in all my years seen something as offensive and insulting as a police chief releasing a tape of a young man trying to smear him before we even have his funeral.”

But I query, is Sharpton’s speech insightful or incite(ful)? For the life of me, I cannot understand the demands. Everyone wants justice form Michael Brown. But from face value, all I see is Sharpton and other protesters demanding instant justice.  Will all Ferguson riots disappear simply with the arrest of Officer Darren Wilson?

While Brown supporters claim police are smearing a good kid’s name, it should be remembered Brown supporters are smearing the officer’s and prosecution name as well. Even after forensic pathologist hired by the Brown family stated all of the bullets entered Brown from the front, the Brown family attorney claimed he was “executed.”

Having traveled the Mideast and witnessing a few executions, I can confirm that what happened to Brown was not an execution. Executions I’ve seen never looked like what happened to Michael Brown.  This doesn’t mean Brown should be dead either. But before placing our own, eye for an eye justice mentality, it’s important to remember the United States has a legal process. And that legal process hasn’t opined.

In our rush for Brown’s sainthood, we are subtly convicting Darren Wilson. This trial mob mentality is no different than those commonly utilized by some remote tribal court. The backstage strategic puppeteering that all high-press cases engage in, and had better engage in, is quite amazing. Literally, the unique role of today’s lawyer is litigating in the court of public opinion. Contrary to public opinion, circumstantial evidence and personal bias shoved down a listener’s throat is just as powerful as physical evidence. Brown’s attorneys are prepping future jurors.

Brown supporters, police and the Sharpton’s of the world deal cards in a life or death game – and everyone is getting played. Come time for a jury to sit and opine upon Officer Wilson’s fate, no one will remember Wilson’s “orbital blowout fracture to the eye socket.” However, most will remember the Ferguson riots, the looting and the word ‘executed.’

Remember the buzz words, “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit?” Defense lawyers for O.J. Simpson mastered the court of public opinion. Robert Shapiro  and Johnnie Cochran persona, Simpson’s celebrity and televised trial riveted the nation. By the end of the criminal trial, there were dramatic differences in Simpson’s guilt between most black and white Americans.

In November 1998, Bill Moushey and Bob Martinson of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette wrote a 10-part series, “Win At All Costs,” exposing where federal agents and prosecutors pursued justice by breaking the law.  In the series, the two wrote: “They lied, hid evidence, distorted facts, engaged in cover-ups, paid for perjury and set up innocent people in a relentless effort to win indictments, guilty pleas and convictions.”

Let’s face it, Officer Wilson’s trail is occurring as we speak. And to be honest, the Officer Wilson has no chance of winning.

During the seemingly ceaseless Ferguson, MO, riot I noted coverage of a north St. Louis resident, Jeffrey Hill. In a National Public Radio interview, Hill said it made little sense to try and work with a society that hassles black men daily. Furthermore, African Americans should refrain from any interaction with the white community.

“This isn’t the first person that’s died from the police,” he said. “This isn’t the first racial issue that we’ve dealt with in this country. We’ve been in this position to be in public and have discussions and get answers and all of that, and they have proven time and time again that that’s not what they want to do.”

Hill suggested that the black community pull away from broader society.

I sincerely value Mr. Hill’s comments, but personally, society as a whole and many African Americans sacrificed too much to pull back. There has been too much blood, too much death and too much destruction to simply walk away.

What’s interesting to watch is how Ferguson residents struggle with their response. I concur that what happened to Mr. Brown was tragic. And should eye-witness reports prove accurate, the officer in question must be adjudicated via a court of law, not by a lynch mob mentality that serves no meaningful purpose other than to inflame.

It probably won’t shock you to know that after the cameras stop rolling, we’re left nearly in the same place we started. Harry Chapin’s song W*O*L*D is spot on, “… you can drive on ten-thousand miles and still be where you are.” And that’s what happens when camera lights stop – after all the sound bites and television interviews, someone needs to query, “Why did this happen? Why did Ferguson residents destroy the town in which they live?“

Reverend Traci D. Blackmon of Christ the King United Church of Christ (Florissant, MO) acknowledged widespread frustration in the wake of Brown’s death.

“We are here to stop the bleeding in our streets,” Blackmon said. “We are here to take our communities back. We are here to take our children back. We are here to take our voices back. And this time, we will not go away.”

I can’t agree more. How do we stop the bleeding? How do make our voices known?

It’s tragic Michael Brown lost his life. But should our reprehension be limited to only Brown? What about all the other young black murder victims? Nationally, half of all murder victims are black, with the vast majority of those deaths being committed by other blacks. Where’s the march for them? Accordingly, whites are just as likely to be killed by other whites. Yet, we march not for them either. To bring this point home, a Ferguson woman was shot in the head during a ‘drive-by’ shooting as citizens rioted in Ferguson streets. Where’s her marchers? Who rioted’ in her name?

The term “white on black,” “black on black” or “white on white” crime is denigrating. Instead of attributing increased crime to poverty, lack of education, opportunity, inequality and disenfranchisement, we blame police officers, courts, whites, blacks, Jews, a Quick Trip store or whomever happens to be around. If it’s proved Michael Brown was gunned down without provocation, it’s due in large part to the stereotypes and slander all ethnic races assign one another. Riot to the nearest mirror and look. There, within the reflection, lay a key participant to the current mess.

In effect, we’ve institutionalized our racism. We provide the fewest routes for the poor to succeed, pay crappy wages, disfranchise people from voting, deny healthcare, a solid education and the opportunity to progress. Then we have the gall to be stunned when the volcano erupts some hot night somewhere near Jerkwater, USA.

America cannot afford to live in a segregated society. Rather, society needs a transformative solution. But what I’m afraid of is that we’ll ignore all of this … when the camera stops.