G.H. Yamauchi
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Black Lives Matter

My first job after college graduation was doing research on what happened in communities that had long faced police brutality and abuse that had finally won some kind of "reform", usually in the form of civilian complaint review boards or community policing programs (oftentimes, such programs were undermined by the police, for instance by putting civilians on the boards who had close ties to the police force, or rendering the boards' decisions powerless to effect actual change). My research was used by organizers knocking on doors in a number of cities trying to get people to demand more police accountability.

Back then, in 1993, even though it was after the beating of Rodney King and the uprising in LA following the acquittal of the police who had beaten him--one of the first times when such abuse had been captured on video and shown across the country and world--back then, protesting police abuse still felt like it was on the margins of political activity. The group I worked for in Oakland (Applied Research Center, now Race Forward) was a grassroots multiracial coalition in one of the most left-leaning parts of the country, and what mattered a lot to us did not seem to move the mainstream of the United States.

Twenty-seven years later, even though I am angry and outraged that Black people continue to be abused and murdered by the police, and so often with complete impunity, I feel a little bit of hope that so much more of our nation is now confronting the reality of police racism and abuse, that such protests have brought out so many people--and I say this even as someone who, as of June 8, 2020, has not been on the streets. I have been cowering out of fear of coronavirus in crowds and of the teargassing and violent response of the police against protestors, and so have only done the tiny things one can do from home, like signing petitions and donating to bail funds and to organizations that support the Black Lives Matter movement and that work towards long-term change. (Speaking of which: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/ab_mn? https://www.communityjusticeexchange.org/nbfn-directory )

The only other thing I could think to do was to honor in some small way Black lives that should not have been marked by violence at the hands of the police. Although of course it is right that someone's name might become a rallying cry in the fight against the injustice that rained violence on them, it also feels deeply unfair that anyone’s life be reduced to the moment of their death or of their humiliation and assault.

I did not know the following people personally, and have no inside knowledge (sources of information follow each portrait). I am neither able nor attempting to write a full story of anyone's life. I would just like to honor each person with a small glimpse into part of their life that existed away from the police violence that brought them into the public eye.

Please note: I realized a bit late that the first three people in this series all happened to be college-educated or college-bound. I know that the use of "respectability politics" can be toxic and I want to be clear that I don't believe anyone has to prove that they are a striver, or an angel, or have an impeccable record for their lives to be valuable; other people in the series will represent a broader range of backgrounds.

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Sandra Bland 150px 1200.png
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Abner Louima 150 px 1200.png
Sandra Bland 150px 1200.png
Patrick Dorismond.png
Atatiana Jefferson.png
Amadou Diallo 150px 1200.png
Patrisse Cullors 300.png