Tweet
I am Oscar Grant (photo: tenacious snail/flickr)
Today is the third anniversary of Oscar Grant’s execution by BART police officer Johannes Mehserle. For any of you unfamiliar with this story: Oscar, a young father, a young worker, unarmed, was shot in the back while lying prostrate in police custody on the Fruitvale BART station platform; after days of rage in the community, Mehserle was charged with murder and ultimately convicted of involuntary manslaughter, for which he served less than half of his two-year sentence.
The Oscar Grant Committee and Occupy Oakland organized a march in remembrance, beginning at the plaza we renamed after Oscar and ending with a rally at the Fruitvale BART. My husband and I walked up to meet the crowd when they arrived at the BART, which is just a few blocks from our house. The streets were lined with police cars and near the edge of the rally, there was a big black SUV with a couple of laughing cops inside. Most every cop we saw was smiling or shooting the breeze with fellow officers; none of them seemed to be taking this occasion too seriously. After all, they are collecting some nice fat overtime pay.
These annual rallies for Oscar have a certain “old home week” feel – there are the same faces and the same litanies of police brutality, with another year’s worth of injustices added to the list. Another mother or two gets up to tell the story of how her baby was murdered or jailed by BART cops or OPD. This year, we also heard from Kenneth Carrethers, a man who was beaten by Mehserle six weeks before Oscar was killed. Some people believe that if that incident had been properly investigated at the time, Oscar might still be alive. We heard from several of our OO comrades who were arrested during Friday’s melee. It was reassuring to see their faces, to know that they were not spending New Year’s Day in jail (there are still a couple of people who have not been released). Khalid, one of our most articulate and eloquent comrades (and someone who has been arrested multiple times at OO), told us to occupy our neighborhoods – to not let anyone go hungry on our block, to give comfort to a mentally ill neighbor, to take care of each other. He is so right. It’s the main lesson we are all teaching each other at Occupy; it’s really all that matters.
Uncle Bobby holding Tatiana – photo taken by Steve Rhodes on October 23, 2010.
This year, several members of Oscar Grant’s family spoke to us: his mother Wanda, his daughter Tatiana, and his Uncle Bobby (Cephus) Johnson. They all expressed their thanks to us for coming out to support them and for standing up for what we believe in. Their strength, their composure, their love was overwhelming. I found myself crying and looked around and saw others wiping away tears. It probably would have been easier if all of these mothers, these daughters, these uncles – who have endured such heartbreak, such loss – were crying too, but they are fierce, they are warriors, they are able to take that next breath, somehow. Their courage allows us all to keep breathing, to keep fighting, even though another baby was shot to death in Oakland in 2011, on a day that police decided to spend their time arresting occupiers for no reason.
As we left, we saw Uncle Bobby standing near the periphery of the crowd. (Everyone calls him that; Oscar’s family has been gracious enough to allow us such intimacies, to allow us to feel like we know them even when we don’t.) I stopped to thank Uncle Bobby for being there so that we could all express our feelings and I totally lost it and started crying again. He gave me a big hug and I thought to myself, how crazy, how sweet, that he is able to comfort me.
We walked home and at the very far end of the BART parking lot was a lone police officer, sitting in the car with his window rolled down. I dried my tears and put on my best middle-aged-white lady smile and said to him, “Happy New Year, Officer!” He smiled. Then I said, “Try not to kill anybody this year, OK?” He stopped smiling.
14 Comments
It’s your best diary ever, carol; I’d rec it twice is I could. I weep with you, as I have often before looking at Oscar’s visage (the one with his babby son was too tender to bear); we have a candle in our window for him and all the others. I did not know about Kenneth.
“Khalid, one of our most articulate and eloquent comrades (and someone who has been arrested multiple times at OO), told us to occupy our neighborhoods – to not let anyone go hungry on our block, to give comfort to a mentally ill neighbor, to take care of each other. He is so right. It’s the main lesson we are all teaching each other at Occupy; it’s really all that matters.”
The local grocer stopped by when Steve and I were Occupying Mancos yesterday afternoon, an almost absurd endeavor except that…people seem to love the devil out of it.
Friend grocer made a few jokes about the movement, and some cynical, if realistic, observations about revolutions in history, worried about Robespierres, though he didn’t know enough to name them…
I tried to explain that this is different; it is designed to be a revolution of spirit and community that may, must meld us together into some better version of a whole nation…with compassion, cooperation and love…at its core. If we fail at that, and engage continually in the wars over labels and ideologies we’re seeing now, both in the media, and too often in the blogosphere…we will doom ourselves to being led later by demagogues and poisonous and glib Worm-tongues.
We will, of course, require our version of Truth and Reconciliation, after which we can move forward. Third World citizens have taught us the value of truth and accountability being interwoven with acceptance, if not true forgiveness, and truth (again) as one road to redemption of one’s spirit and soul.
Oakland is the epicenter of the struggle now; thanks for being our eyes, ears, and translator. Please have a glass of wine on me (a big one, girlfriend) ;o)
Aw, Wendy, thank you. This is certainly my most emotional diary – I think months’ worth of feelings have finally coalesced for me and many others and Oscar Grant is such a touchstone in my neighborhood. We were at home watching the Raiders game, listening for the helicopter that would signal that the march had arrived at the Fruitvale BART. The Raiders were behind and we almost decided not to go. But the universe pushed us out the door at halftime; justice is a little more important than football. My husband – a noted rabblerouser – made me walk on the side of the street opposite the line of police cars on our way home.
Thank you also for occupying Mancos and for understanding the true meaning of this movement. 2012 portends to be an apocalyptic year, indeed. But in a good way.
Oscar Grant will always live on in my heart.
Good work, Carol!
Thanks, Mary. It was sad and uplifting all at once. As always, everybody was there and Oakland’s miraculous diversity was on display. Oscar occupies all of our hearts.
This is a beautiful post, Carol. It’s time to occupy our communities.
“…some better version of a whole nation…with compassion, cooperation and love…at its core.”
This is just as I described it Xmas Eve to my liberal-leaning friends who’ve watched too much tv.
I am working on my remarks for the court tomorrow on why we occupy, and I thank you so much for reminding us of the real revolution, not against injustice and all of the other isms but FOR a world where we work together because we must find all ways to love each other in order to survive and thrive, if we can.
Peace and love to you, hfc and wd.
I remember when Oscar was murdered…..and how hard I wept . The insanity, the inhumanity. I couldn’t believe this was happening and that the perp got a walk. I am so proud that you folks are continuing to honor Oscar and are keeping his memory alive. Thank you, Carol, for this posting. Thank you.
That seems to be what the authorities are quite afraid of – people helping each other without asking anything in return. Can’t have that on public display in a public space/encampment …
Thanks to all of you for keeping the spirit of Oscar alive and being so radical as to think that we can take care of each other. That’s where the true power lies and it is there for the taking – although the PTB are doing their very best to keep us apart, to keep us in constant conflict.
Remember the Panthers in the 60′s feeding neighborhoods. They had a store front on Haight Street. Soul on Ice a book, Cleaver the malice is still fed. Just so insane and inhumane. They must always have to wear their crimes and cowardice.
We have Black Panther history lessons at Occupy Oakland; some of the elders are still around and they have a lot to teach us. I’d be happy if we were to just adopt the 10-Point Plan. I can’t get the chants out of my head: no more brothers in jail, the pigs are gonna catch hell. Some things never change.
I was on the march from 12th Street to the Fruitvale Plaza. I still remember hearing of Grant’s death in the early morning hours of 1/1/09 . . . the BART police tried to confiscate all the video, but failed and the people gave it over to KTVU television instead. And then, the Alameda County DA, Orloff, was signalling that he wasn’t going to prosecute, and it sadly took people breaking out the windows of storefronts to get him to do it. And, the judge down in LA decided to rub in it after the verdict when he said that he was thrown out a murder verdict anyway, because Mehserle, the cop who killed Grant did it involuntarily because of what he called “muscle memory”. I guess white cops just have some kind of ingrained “muscle memory” that makes them involuntarily kill young black males.
All true, Franz. I guess Mehserle also had some muscle memory issues when he beat up and hogtied Kenneth Carrethers.