I Can't Breathe

I Can't Breathe

Adult nonfiction
You probably saw or read about this news story in 2014. A
police officer put a choke hold on Eric Garner in the process of
trying to arrest him. He didn't let up the pressure even when Garner
managed to gasp out that he couldn't breathe. Those were his last
words.
This murder would have been easy for the police to fly under the
radar with. It happened in a part of town most of us wouldn't set
foot in. The victim was an underdog in every sense of the word. So
were the friends who saw him take his last tortured breath. But the
brutality was captured on video and exposed to the world.
So who was Eric Garner? Why did he have to die? Mat Taibbi's I
Can't Breathe explores both complex questions in depth.
In 2014 Taibbi had written a book that compared the police's
differential treatment of Whites and Blacks accused of crimes. He
intended to just write a magazine article on Garner. Only something
unexpected happened. He began to feel like he knew him and to like him.
"An outsider entering a neighborhood that had experienced a
world-shaking event like that might expect to hear stories of a saint
and a martyr. But Garner's friends cared about him too much to
slander him with false praise. Garner, I learned very early on, was a
man who was loved by his friends and by his family members not in
spite of his faults and not because of them, but because of the
totality of who he was--the fullness of his imperfect humanity."
In addition to giving us a much more complete picture of a
complex human being than the news media could have, Taibbi goes into
the historical background of racist policing in America, centering on
two factors in particular.
One is the quota system that can make policing more like selling
cars than like serving and protecting. At all levels of hierarchy
there is pressure to report a certain number of arrests, whether or
not there are enough reported crimes to justify them. If you're under
this kind of pressure, with nothing less than your job at stake,
you'll go where you'll feel most likely to find crime. If you believe
that Blacks are more likely to be thugs, you'll spend more time
investigating their neighborhoods and hoping to get lucky.
The other is the broken windows theory. It translates to: if you
overlook small stuff (broken windows, grafitti), larger bad stuff
(drugs, homicide) will happen. This, in concert with the quota
system, leads to unequally applied zero tolerance, stop and frisk, and
the school to jail pipeline.
If you want to get a real handle on racist policies and
practices in policing and ways they are covered up I Can't Breathe is
a must read.
On a purrrsonal note, statistics class was fantastic. Jodi had
installed zoom just fine. Thanks to studying the chapters and slides
ahead of time I was able to keep up just fine. Plus I have a great
lecturer for a professor. He loves his topic and sharing it with
students and it shows. Think Mr. Rogers discoursing on variables and
scales of measurement. He also can be very funny. Two and a half
hours flew. I think I'll do fine if I keep up with the due
dilligence. Tobago, of course made a regal appearance as she did at
my Decolonizing UMaine zoom this morning. Yesterday Emily brought me
ten library books. I am over the moon. Party on! Last night when I
was reading outside I was able to enjoy watching the most beautiful
sunset. It made my heart sing. It's not as spectacular in a picture,
but I took one to share anyway. (Jules).
Of course I drop in on zoom. I think it's weird. But people need to
see gorgeous kittys like moi. (Lady Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to my fellow statistics students, our
professor, Craig, Jodi for installing zoom, and Emily for bringing me
books.
Also a special pandemic shout out goes out to the Town of Orono for
mandating people to wear people to wear masks inside public spaces and
when interacting closely with others outside and large housing
complexes to provide the town with COVID-19 prevention plans. Way to
keep both townspeople and UMaine students safe!
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


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