Say Something Real
By Michelle Bryant
Michelle Bryant
I have lived long enough to hope for the best but expect the worst, in trials involving law enforcement and the deaths of unarmed Black men. But I’ve got to be honest that the recent acquittal of police officers connected to the brutal beating death of Tyree Nichols just hit differently. Nichols, a 29-year-old Black man, was horrifically beaten by Memphis police officers during a traffic stop, an incident that was caught on video and shocked the nation. It was a modern-day Rodney King assault, with a sickening twist.
The fact that the officers involved are also Black men added another layer of complexity and frustration to this tragedy. How could men who share the same skin color as Nichols, who should understand the struggles of being Black in America, and the origins of modern-day policing participate in this attack on Nichols? Their actions raised an uncomfortable but necessary question for me: When Black officers put on the blue uniform, how easy is it for some of them to lose sight of their own identity?
Historically, police culture has been rooted in systemic racism, and Black officers often face pressure to conform to that culture. The “blue wall of silence” reinforces loyalty to the badge above all else, even when it means turning a blind eye to injustice. In the case of Tyree Nichols, their actions echoed the very oppression that the Black community has fought against for generations. I was thrilled that, like any other perpetrator of a crime, they would be held accountable. It didn’t take long for reality to kick in.
The acquittals of Officers Tadarrius Bean, Demetrius Haley, and Justin Smith of all state charges, including second-degree murder, were part of a well-orchestrated set of troubling events. The decision to move the trial out of Memphis, a city with a significant Black population, to a predominantly white town begs the question what about a jury of my peers? Composed of entirely white jurors, a stark contrast to the diversity of Memphis, it didn’t take long to realize the case was in trouble. However, we, as Black people, must understand our role in this process, as well.
Jury compositions underscore the importance of African-Americans participating in the civic process, particularly voting. Jury pools are often drawn from voter registration lists, meaning that when we don’t show up to vote, we’re also limiting our representation in courtrooms. Nichols’ case is a grim reminder that systemic change requires participation at every level—not just protesting in the streets, but casting ballots and ensuring our voices are heard in the justice system.
Yet, I understand that we have no control when cases are intentionally moved to perceived friendly jurisdictions to law enforcement. This acquittal emphasizes how much work remains to be done to dismantle systemic racism in the judicial system. It’s not enough to demand accountability from police officers; we must also hold prosecutors, judges, juries, and even ourselves, accountable.
Tyree Nichols’ death should not be in vain. His case must serve as a wake-up call for all Americans, particularly the Black community, to engage fully in the systems that govern us. Change doesn’t happen overnight, but it begins with participation. No matter where we show up in the justice system, such as law enforcement, lawyers, judges, correctional or probation officers, etc., we can never forget our humanity and understanding of the need for fair treatment of those in these systems.
The fight for justice is ongoing, but we shouldn’t have to fight people who ought to know better.