African Americans have never known a country wherein some white people did not feel they had the absolute, God-ordained prerogative to regulate us — nor the right to call police when we declined to be regulated.
We live in a starkly bipolar political world. One is red or one is blue, one is right or one is left. But I’ve always resisted the idea that I had to choose a team and line up behind its talking points.
Even if you buy a police officer’s tale, you are left with a man who answered a loud knocking — while carrying a firearm in his own home in a right-to-carry state — then closed the door. Apparently, that’s a capital crime now, if you’re black.
Robert F. Kennedy had an instinct for the underdog and a deep, moral indignation over the unfair treatment that trapped them in their hoods and hollers. Fifty years after his assassination, we mourn him, and who we could have been.