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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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kneeling for football

September 4 , 2018

What was Kaepernick protesting in the first place?

As a quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers, Kaepernick sparked controversy when he sat, then knelt, during the National Anthem before several 2016 NFL preseason and regular-season games. He said he did so to protest police shootings of African-American men and other social injustices faced by black people in the United States.

Colin Kaepernick, right, and Eric Reid of the San Francisco 49ers kneel in protest during the National Anthem before playing the Los Angeles Rams on September 12, 2016.

"To me, this is something that has to change," Kaepernick said in an August 2016 interview. "And when there's significant change and I feel like that flag represents what it's supposed to represent and this country is representing people the way that it's supposed to, I'll stand."

Kaepernick also said he could not "show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color."

After first, Kaepernick sat during the anthem. Later, he opted instead to kneel "to show more respect for men and women who fight for the country." The change came at the suggestion of former NFL player and Green Beret Nate Boyer.

Who else participated?

Kaepernick's protest inspired other players. His teammate, Eric Reid, soon knelt beside him. Other teammates joined, including Antoine Bethea, Eli Harold, Jaquiski Tartt and Rashard Robinson.

Michael Bennett: 'I can't stand for the national anthem & apos;

Michael Bennett: 'I can't stand for the national anthem'

Players who sat or knelt during the 2016 season included: Jeremy Lane of the Seattle Seahawks, Brandon Marshall of the Denver Broncos and the Miami Dolphins' Arian Foster, Michael Thomas, Kenny Stills and Jelani Jenkins. Other players, including the Philadelphia Eagles' Malcolm Jenkins, raised fists.

When the 2017 season rolled around, more players joined the protest.

Michael Bennett, then a defensive end for the Seattle Seahawks, told CNN last August he couldn't stand for the National Anthem until he saw equality and freedom.

Twelve members of the Cleveland Browns took a knee last August in their preseason game against the New York Giants. Other teammates huddled around the group in support.

These are the NFL players protesting today amid Trump criticism

Browns tight end Seth DeValve was identified as the first white NFL player to kneel. DeValve, whose wife is African-American, said he didn't realize he was the first white player to do so.

"I, myself, will be raising children who don't look like me," DeValve said. "I want to do my part, as well, to do everything I can to raise them in a better environment (than) we have right now. I wanted to take that opportunity with my teammates to pray for our country and also to draw attention to the fact that we have work to do. That's why I did what I did."

How did the NFL respond?

After Kaepernick sat for the first time, his team and the NFL released statements saying players were encouraged, but not required, to stand for the anthem, which is played before every professional sporting event in the country.

"The national anthem is and always will be a special part of the pre-game ceremony," the 49ers said in a statement at the time. "It is an opportunity to honor our country and reflect on the great liberties we are afforded as its citizens. In respecting such American principles as freedom of religion and freedom of expression, we recognize the right of an individual to choose and participate, or not, in our celebration of the national anthem."

But things changed in 2017, as Kaepernick became a free agent. No team offered him a contract, and that October, he filed a grievance against the league, accusing team owners of colluding to keep him from being signed.

Athletes who protest peacefully "should not be punished," Kaepernick's attorney said in a statement announcing the grievance.

Still, players continued to kneel. And public backlash mounted until team owners in May declared that all team personnel on the field during the anthem must "stand and show respect for the flag and the Anthem."

NFL anthem policy shelved as talks with Players Association continue

Under the policy, players could stay in the locker room during the anthem -- but if any team personnel on the field knelt, the team would be fined. Teams then could decide whether and how to punish offending staff.

That didn't sit well with players. Their union in July filed a grievance, arguing the new policy infringed upon player rights and was enacted without consulting the union.

A week later, NFL officials said they would put the policy on hold so they could discuss a solution with the players association.

How is President Trump involved?

President Donald Trump has not been a fan of players taking a knee.

During his first NFL season in the White House, Trump last September said during a rally in Alabama that NFL owners should respond to players who do so by saying, "Get that son of a bitch off the field right now, he's fired. He's fired!"

NFL players kneel, raise fists or sit out National Anthem as preseason gets in full swing

In an act of defiance against Trump's statements, players from all 28 teams participated days later in some form of protest, along with many coaches and team owners. Jaguars owner Shad Khan locked arms with players during the anthem as at least a dozen of his players took a knee. The Dallas Cowboys, including owner Jerry Jones, took a knee before locking arms and standing during the anthem. Atlanta Falcons head coach Dan Quinn also locked arms with his players.

Neither Trump nor the players have let up this season. Two Miami Dolphins players knelt last month during the anthem during a preseason game, with Dolphins defensive end Robert Quinn raising his fist during the song. Jenkins, the Philadelphia Eagles captain, and cornerback De'Vante Bausby raised their fists during the song. Several Jacksonville Jaguars were not on the field as the anthem played.

In response, Trump took to Twitter.

"The NFL players are at it again - taking a knee when they should be standing proudly for the National Anthem," the President tweeted August 10. "Numerous players, from different teams, wanted to show their 'outrage' at something that most of them are unable to define. They make a fortune doing what they love."

He continued: "Be happy, be cool! A football game, that fans are paying soooo much money to watch and enjoy, is no place to protest. Most of that money goes to the players anyway. Find another way to protest. Stand proudly for your National Anthem or be Suspended Without Pay!"

What other sports joined in?

Kaepernick's protest had ripple effects across the sports world, something that came to be called the "Kaepernick effect."

In 2016, US soccer international and Seattle Reign midfielder Megan Rapinoe kneels during the National Anthem in a show of solidarity with Kaepernick.

Seattle Reign midfielder Megan Rapinoe takes a knee as the National Anthem is sung ahead of the Reign &apos match with the Chicago Red Stars.

Seattle Reign midfielder Megan Rapinoe takes a knee as the National Anthem is sung ahead of the Reign's match with the Chicago Red Stars.

"I think it's actually pretty disgusting the way (Kaepernick) was treated and the way that a lot of the media has covered it and made it about something that it absolutely isn't," Rapinoe said. "We need to have a more thoughtful, two-sided conversation about racial issues in this country."

High school students protested during the anthem as well.

Singer Denasia Lawrence knelt at midcourt as she took the mic in 2016 to sing the anthem at an NBA preseason game between the Miami Heat and Philadelphia 76ers.

NASCAR released a statement in 2017 affirming its respect for the National Anthem and noting it's "always been a hallmark of our pre-race events."

The organization, which had earned praised from Trump, also acknowledged the right to free speech and peaceful protest.

Forget the NFL ... women's basketball players take powerful stand on social justice

"Thanks to the sacrifices of many, we live in a country of unparalleled freedoms and countless liberties, including the right to peacefully express one's opinion," the statement said, adding that "sports are a unifying influence in our society, bringing people of differing backgrounds and beliefs together."

The WNBA also was the site of protests. Before Game 1 of last year's finals series, the Los Angeles Sparks staged a collective walkout during the anthem -- to a clatter of boos -- as their opponents, the Minnesota Lynx, linked arms while standing. As the anthem played before the next games, the Sparks stayed in the locker room.

What's happened to Kaepernick since his first protest?

Since becoming a free agent, Kaepernick has fulfilled a September 2016 pledge to donate $1 million to organizations working in what he's described as oppressed communities.

Meantime, an arbiter last week denied the NFL's request to throw out his grievance, allowing his case to go to a trial, tweeted his lawyer, Mark Geragos, who is also a CNN legal commentator.

Kaepernick also has been honored numerous times since 2016 for his social justice work. In April, he was named an Amnesty International Ambassador of Conscience, the human rights group's highest honor.

Colin Kaepernick named Amnesty International Ambassador of Conscience

"The Ambassador of Conscience award celebrates the spirit of activism and exceptional courage, as embodied by Colin Kaepernick," Salil Shetty, Amnesty International's secretary-general, said in a statement. "He is an athlete who is now widely recognized for his activism because of his refusal to ignore or accept racial discrimination."

Kaepernick was named GQ's Citizen of the Year for 2017 and accepted the 2017 Sports Illustrated Muhammad Ali Legacy Award. He also received the Eason Monroe Courageous Advocate Award from the American Civil Liberties Union of Southern California.

And in a tweet just days before the 2018 NFL regular-season opener, Kaepernick posted the ad that features him as part of the campaign for the 30th anniversary of the athletic apparel company's iconic slogan, "Just Do It."

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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slave auction @ a boarding school

My name is Beth Patin. I went to a boarding school for high school in Alabama. To raise money for prom and different dances and things, our school would have slave auctions. Folks were allowed to raffle themselves off and stand up in front of everybody on an auction block. And if you bid the most money, then you gotta keep that person for an entire day and make them do whatever you wanted. It really bothered me. I went to talk to the headmaster and they really weren't willing to change things, but they eventually changed the name to serf sales, I think by the time I had graduated.

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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black facing

Corynne Jones

2007

The story I wanted to share was, I went to Clemson University. My senior year, 2007, it was either on Martin Luther King's birthday or it was on the holiday. A group of white kids threw a Martin Luther King party and they had some kitschy slogan for it like 'Livin' The Dream' or something like that, I don't really recall. And a lot of kids showed up, a lot of white kids showed up with their skin darkened in some way or with other stereotypical things like foil in their teeth or 40s in their hands or pads in their butt to make their butt bigger.

It got out on Facebook and the way the university responded, it was interesting being on campus. Often you might be the only black person in classes there, and the school barely wanted to do anything at all. "Let's keep the peace" was the bigger response. At the time I was in college and I'm like, 'Hey, I'm trying to be a good member of society, and at every turn it's like you're reminded that you're nothing, and that you're always going to be thought of as a joke.' I guess every time something like this happens it takes a chunk out of you.

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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couple dealing with racism

James Scott and Melquea Smith

She and I were on a date in downtown Syracuse about a month ago. We were going to listen to some amateur musicians at the Funk ‘n Waffles. It was a really fun time, and we decided afterwards to take a walk through downtown. After a brief stop at Starbucks, we kept walking around downtown. It was a Sunday. The streets were fairly deserted. We were holding hands, enjoying ourselves.

At some point, three black boys (probably high-schoolers) were walking behind us. We didn’t pay them any mind until we distinctly heard someone say, “Yo, she darker than he is.” My girlfriend and I kind of looked at each other, trying to affirm nonverbally that we’d heard exactly what we thought we’d heard. We kept walking.

Then one of them said, “What color your baby gonna come out?”

We didn’t respond, didn’t even look back; we just kept walking.

“Hey! I said, what color your baby gonna come out?!”

By then, it was perfectly clear they were no longer talking about us but AT us. Now, we’re not strangers to racial harassment. It’s usually some white guy walking down the street in the opposite direction making a quick remark and then vanishing before we can respond. Or it’s some stationary drunk guy with a beer in his hand, leaning against a structure of some sort. Often, we’d just respond with a middle finger and that was that.

This incident, however, was our first experience where our harassers were actually following us.

We whispered to each other about what to do. Keep walking? Turn around and confront them? What if that lead to a fight? What if one of them was carrying a weapon of some kind? We’re not very confrontational people and we hadn’t prepared for this. We both sort of committed to stepping up our pace a little bit but pretend we couldn’t hear them.

The same sentence "What color your baby gonna come out?!" was shouted again and again while these boys followed behind us about thirty feet away for three blocks. At one point, I heard the phrase “black bitch” directed at my girlfriend, to which I definitely felt her tense up on my arm. She clearly wanted to turn around and punch them. Once again, we didn’t know what to do: keep walking or confront them?

When we came to an intersection, we saw a group of people gathered around a building entrance down the street on the right, so we turned and walked in their direction. The trio of youths apparently decided not to keep following us now that there was more than just the two of us, and they kept walking off to another street.

My girlfriend was shaking—from fear, from anger, from anger at herself for not confronting them, even anger at me for not standing up for her. I was also shaking. We had a long conversation about it, and I was angry at myself for not saying something to those boys, particularly when they called her a “black bitch.”

That struck me as so odd. The boys never said anything about me, really. I can count on one hand the number of times in my life I’ve ever been called a “cracker,” which I honestly cannot find offensive. It sounds so silly, like I’m being compared to a dried baked good made by Ritz or Saltine. Most other anti-white “slurs” never offended me either. Honky? Sounds like the noise a car horn makes. Peckerwood? I think it goes without saying why I find that hilarious rather than offensive.

Now, I’m not exactly naive to issues of institutional racism. Recklessness by police in Syracuse has resulted in the deaths of people like Chuniece Patterson and Raul Pinet, Jr., as well as the maiming of an African immigrant named Maparo Ramadhan. About two years ago I witnessed a black student get arrested and thrown to the ground at the downtown bus hub, just for refusing to get off the bus because he was trying to get home on the last day of school and his pass (which worked that morning) was not working that afternoon, for some reason. A black woman even offered two dollars from her own pocket to pay the boy’s fare, to which the officer yelled at her, “Shut the fuck up! Sit down!” Had I a camera at the time, I would’ve recorded the incident.

I suppose the final thing that worried my girlfriend and me most was the implications of those three youths, regarding our having children. If we did have children, how would they be treated by other black folks? How would they be treated by police? How would they be treated by white folks? That’s what has me scared the most. As a white person raised in a 99 percent white environment, I never had to deal with issues of race for at least the first 20 years of my life.

I’ve never had this “Talk” my black acquaintances refer to, so the thought of us having a child together and my restricted ability to help that child scares the crap out of me. It also concerns my girlfriend that, despite her being a black woman, she might not know how to contend with raising a biracial child in this society.

We’ve discussed how to deal with another potential “following harassment” incident. We’ve discussed all the pros and cons of simply walking on or confronting any future harassers. Still, the fear that we're not prepared is there

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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this is my cousin also...he got shot multiple times by a officers who shouldn’t be a officer...he’s had multiple complaints and everything else but he’s still here...it’s not fair...he’s not a angel but he didn’t deserve this

2014

Desean Pittman

CHICAGO (CBS) — A new federal Lawsuit takes aim at a Chicago police officer who went viral for

claiming “I kill mother——s.” Turns out that officer did kill a teenager who was suspected of killing another man in a shootout in 2014.

CBS 2 Investigator Brad Edwards has been working this story for months. It’s a story in shades of gray that begins with a grieving grandmother and a viral boast.

“I kill mother——s.”

Those words are not from a spree killer or a hardened Chicago gang-banger, but instead, from a Chicago police officer, one with a history of questionable arrests and use of force: Officer James Hunt.

Bonnette Jernigan’s grandson was shot 10 times by Hunt, including in his back — per the autopsy.

It was Aug. 24, 2014. Her grandson, 17-year-old DeSean Pittman, died at the scene.

“How did he have a bullet in the back?” Jernigan asked after CBS investigator Brad Edwards showed her Pittman’s autopsy.

“Look at all of these shots. Oh my God, who shoots a human being like this?”

Four years later, Officer Hunt engaged 20-year-old Kenneth Lee while he crossed the street with some friends on July 3, 2018. Lee said Officer Hunt accelerated in his squad car, responding to the scene.

That is when the Lee and his friends say they began to tape the encounter.

The following interchanges were captured on the cell phone video and CPD body camera video.

“You say you trying to kill mother—–s?” asks Lee.

“No, I kill mother—–s,” Hunt responds.

“You just tried to hit me with a car?” Lee said.

“Don’t try to film me, dude,” Hunt orders.

Hunt tells Lee’s friends to stop filming and exits the vehicle.

“He said we about to go on Snapchat,” Lee recalls in a recent interview with CBS.

In the video, Lee responds by saying, “You don’t even got a Snapchat, bro.”

Hunt retorts to Lee, “Yeah I do, it’s called ‘I f—-d your mom.’ ”

Jeff Neslund is Lee’s attorney. He also represented the family of Laquan McDonald, the 17-year-old shot 16 times by Chicago Police Officer Jason Van Dyke. Van Dyke was convicted of second-degree murder.

“In this day and age, after Laquan McDonald’s case, as the city tries to heal and rebuild that trust, you have an officer like this who is doing the complete opposite,” Neslund said.

Neslund says he filed a federal civil lawsuit against Hunt, another officer and the City of Chicago on behalf of Lee Monday afternoon.

Police officers are trained in de-escalation. Despite that, Hunt is on camera yelling obscenities and raising the tension.

“You can have all the training in de-escalation you want. You can put body cams on everyone,” Neslund said. “You’re not going to have change unless you get the right individuals for the job that want to serve the public.”

In body cam video from July 3, Lee stands on the sidewalk and asks Hunt to leave him alone.

Hunt spits and replies, “Nope.”

Lee then makes a reference to officers getting shot.

Hunt then asks Lee, “How’s Little G doing?”

Gregory Livingston, “Little G,” was a kid from the neighborhood — murdered on Dec. 30, 2016, at the age of 15.

Gregory Livingston, aka ‘Little G.’ (Credit: gunmemorial.org)

“He giggled while he said it,” said Lee.

At the time, Lee bit back with a comment about the killing of Commander Paul Bauer.

“How’s that officer that got killed doing?” Lee asks.

“Which one?” Hunt replies.

“The one that got shot,” Lee clarifies.

Hunt turns to his fellow officer and asks, “Do you feel that was a threat?”

Hunt pivots back towards Lee.

“I just think you said, ‘We could die,'” Hunt said. “I’m going to take that as a threat.”

“How is that a threat?” Lee inquires.

Hunt responded by arresting Lee for assaulting a police officer and jaywalking.

Prosecutors quickly dropped the charges.

That was not the last Lee would see of Hunt.

In an act that Neslund believes to have been retaliatory, Hunt arrested him again, this time for retail theft from a Walgreen’s. That charge was also dismissed.

“When the charges were pending for this assault, [Lee] was arrested and charged with a retail theft from a Walgreen’s that was also dismissed,” said Neslund.

Craig Futterman is a clinical professor of law at University of Chicago. He believes that it is implausible that these are the only instances of Hunt taunting young black men.

“I can only imagine it is the tip of the iceberg,” said Futterman.

Officer Hunt joined CPD on June 3, 2013. In less than six years, he has had eight accusations of misconduct filed against him. The complaints include use of force, false arrest, and racial/verbal abuse. When measured against his years of service, that puts him in the top 95th percentile of CPD officers, according to research by the Invisible Institute — a journalism watchdog organization.

Hunt has also filed 16 use-of-force reports. That’s a standard self-reporting mechanism when a cop uses force, such as a gun or Taser. His use of force reports put him in the top 99.9 percentile.

Hunt began his law enforcement career at the Pontiac Police Department on Oct. 1, 2008. He resigned soon after, according to Pontiac police, to take a position with the Frankfort Police Department.

Hunt resigned from Frankfort after only one year and two weeks.

It was a full three years before his next police job in Illinois — with the CPD.

His current base pay is $84,054. After the $48,956 he made in overtime, Hunt brought in over $130,000 in 2017.

The first complaint lodged against Hunt with CPD was for verbal abuse. It was filed 13 months after he joined the force, on July 15, 2014. Forty days later, he shot and killed DeSean Pittman.

All the while, he was still within his 18-month probationary period, per CPD rules.

“The mentality that’s shown in [the Lee arrest] video highlights to me more than anything the critical need for this consent decree in Chicago for oversight. External oversight,” said Futterman.

Hunt arrested Lee for assault. On the police video, Hunt tells a fellow officer, “This one, this one said to me, he was like, ‘You could wind up like the f—–g guy who got dead. There’s snipers out here. Y’all wind up dead,’ So I took that as assault.”

In all the reviewed video, CBS heard nothing remotely like this. Hunt arrested Lee directly after Lee inquired about slain Commander Bauer.

Kenneth Lee (CBS)

CBS investigator Brad Edwards asked Lee whether he was surprised to learn that Hunt had killed before.

“Not at all,” Lee responded.

On Aug. 24, 2014, Hunt killed DeSean Pittman in the East Chatham neighborhood.

DeSean Pittman (Credit: Photo provided)

CBS 2 Chicago’s Freedom of Information Act requests about the incident have been consistently delayed.

According to news reports, police say Pittman shot and killed 22-year-old Amelio Johnson. Pittman’s friends claim it was self-defense.

Amelio Johnson. (Credit: Cook County Sheriff)

Per reports — four CPD officers were on the scene. Only one officer fired: Hunt, who fired eleven times.

Per the Independent Police Review Authority’s (IPRA) own report, obtained by Lee’s legal team, Hunt fired when Pittman was within five feet and aiming his gun in Hunt’s direction. The case was left pending with no action and no finding for three years.

Between 2007 and 2014, there were more than 400 officer-involved shootings. IPRA only ruled that one was unjustified.

Then, October 20, 2014 — Laquan McDonald was shot at killed by CPD Officer Jason Van Dyke. The revelations later revealed in that case led, in part, to major procedural changes within the department and a re-evaluation of previous police involved shooting incidents.

IPRA followed up on the investigation into Pittman’s death a full three years later, interviewing Hunt on July 31, 2017. IPRA’s new conclusion: “P.O. Hunt’s use of force was reasonable.”

According to the autopsy report, “Reporting investigator took photos of the scene. Unfortunately, both remains were removed before investigators’ arrival.”

Sources tell 2 Investigators it’s uncommon the bodies would be removed so quickly, prior to the arrival of investigators from the Medical Examiner’s Office — considering both were dead on scene, and it appears no life-saving attempts were made.

While the case was closed, it was not the end for Jernigan.

DeSean Pittman autopsy report. (Credit: Cook County Medical Examiner)

“Did they ever say which bullet actually killed him? The first? The second? The third? The fourth? The fifth? The sixth? Which one? Did he feel all of them?” she said.

At the thought of her grandson’s final moments, Jernigan cradles her head in her hand and cries.

Years later, viewing that video of Officer Hunt’s declaration — “I kill mother—–s.” — disturbs Bonnette Jernigan more than most.

“You heard him, boasting,” Jernigan said. “I kill, I kill.”

Officer Hunt, through an attorney, has no comment and is unable to comment while an investigation into the Lee matter is on-going.

In response to our story, police spokesman Anthony Guglielmi said in an email:

“This kind of behavior is not what is expected of Department members and is in contrast to the hard work we have done and continue to do to rebuild trust with the communities we serve.”

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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this is my cousin darius, he was shot leaving school...

September 24, 2015

Darian Gunn was fatally shot Thursday afternoon in the South Commons neighborhood.

About 3:35 p.m., the 20-year-old Gunn was standing in the street in the 3000 block of South Michigan Avenue when a gunman in a dark-colored car opened fire, striking him in the back and buttocks, according to Chicago Police and the Cook County medical examiner’s office.

The car then continued eastbound on Cermak Road, police said.

Gunn was taken to Stroger Hospital, where he died at 4:13 p.m., authorities said. He lived in the 2300 block of East 70th Street.

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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kids blackfacing goes viral

May 1,2019

Around 1,000 students staged a school walkout after four of their classmates filmed themselves driving around in blackface and uploaded the video to social media.

The footage, which was originally posted to Snapchat, shows four boys wearing blackface as they harass an African-American cashier at a McDonalds drive through and mock African American Vernacular English.

At least one of the boys is wearing a sweatshirt from Homewood Flossmoor High School, where they have since been confirmed to attend

The offensive video has provoked a wave of strong emotions at the school in Illinois, about 25 miles south of downtown Chicago.

It was the latest incident involving blackface, a racist style of face makeup that dates to the era of minstrel shows in the early 1800s, at a high school.

Students driving around in blackface spark outrage in Chicago

The episode was coupled with another in Maryland, where two students posted an image of themselves on social media and used the n-word to describe the photo.

School administrators in Homewood-Flossmoor Community High School District 233 said they were first alerted to the video on Sunday morning, after calls and emails flooded in about offensive social media posts from a handful of students. The school administration quickly met with “all of the families and students involved,” the district's superintendent Von Mansfield said in a statement.

But that failed to quell the growing resentment about the posts. A small group of parents met with Mr Mansfield on Monday to express their concerns, CBS reported. And on Tuesday, some 1,000 students participated in a walkout around campus, as school administrators said they supported their right to express themselves.

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iamthevoice2019-blog · 5 years

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2 black men arrested just for being at starbucks

December 31, 2018 9:00 am

A Starbucks manager called the police on two black men in April, kicking off a wave of stories about racial profiling this year. Bastiaan Slabbers/NurPhoto via Getty Images

In 2018, news headlines were dominated by stories that followed a similar pattern: a black person is minding their own business in a public space when they are approached by a white person, who questions their right to be there.

Sometimes, the white person skips the middle part and anonymously calls the police.

From using a phone in a hotel lobby, trying to cash a check at a bank, to babysitting white children, mowing lawns, selling water, eating at Subway, sleeping in a college common room, and entering their own apartment buildings, this past year has brought us countless stories of black men, women, and children who were trying to go about their daily lives only to be interrupted by a stranger challenging their presence, challenges that often culminated in interaction with the police.

Being racially profiled for “Living While Black” is not exactly a new phenomenon. But the wave of coverage these types of incidents received this year was unprecedented.

National politics — along with a rise in reported hate crimes and a resurgence of white supremacist movements — has emboldened white people frustrated by their perceived loss of power to take out their fear and anxiety on communities of color.

The ubiquity of smartphones has made it easier to record these incidents than ever before, and the resulting media coverage revealed how much black life in America remains subject to close scrutiny and suspicion.

Racial profiling isn’t new. But viral stories of Living While Black called attention to it.

Eight months ago, Rashon Nelson and Donte Robinson entered a Philadelphia Starbucks to meet with a business partner. Minutes later, after a manager called 911 and told a dispatcher that there were “two gentlemen in my cafe that are refusing to make a purchase or leave,” they were surrounded by police.

The two men, both black, were put in handcuffs, and a video of their arrest went viral. They were quickly released from custody, but the fact that they were ever detained sparked national outrage.

The same month that Nelson and Robinson were arrested, a Pennsylvania golf club owner called the police on a group of black women, supposedly for golfing too slowly. Several teens shopping for prom at a Missouri Nordstrom Rack were accused of shoplifting. Two months later, a white family called the police on a black child for mowing part of the wrong yard.

These stories, and others like them, are part of a bigger story involving the ways that public spaces are controlled along racial lines. They are also a reminder that decades after the collapse of legal segregation, spaces like clothing stores, coffee shops, and universities are often still thought of as either “black spaces” or “white spaces.”

“These incidents have always happened, but white people do not always believe it because it doesn’t happen to us,” Robin DiAngelo, a sociologist and the author of White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, told me this year. “The only real difference we have now is that we are able to record it in a way that makes it undeniable.”

America has a very long history of restricting black movement, going back to the years of black codes and Jim Crow laws. And while the Living While Black incidents of this year certainly built off of that history, they’re also a thoroughly modern development, one that Yale sociologist Elijah Anderson describes as “a powerful new form of symbolic racism that targets black people for behaving in ordinary ways while being black at the same time.”

Anderson explained this in further detail in an August article for Vox, noting that much of the issue lies in white Americans’ belief that African Americans cannot be separated from what he calls the “iconic ghetto” — a place where blacks live inferior lives separate from whites.

Anderson writes:

In practical terms, whites know little about the iconic ghetto and the people who inhabit it. But despite that lack of specified knowledge, for many whites, the anonymous black person in public is always implicitly associated with the urban ghetto.

The link to the ghetto is so strong that it becomes the “master status” of the typical black person, to use a term coined by sociologist E.C. Hughes. It’s the feature that most defines black people in the white imagination.

Anonymous black people — wherever they may actually live, and whatever their profession — therefore move about civil society with a deficit of credibility in comparison with their white counterparts, who are given a “pass” as decent and law-abiding citizens.

In this system, the average black person wages a constant campaign for respect, which is lost before it begins. The judges are most often the contestants who compete with black people for place and position in our increasingly pluralistic and thus rivalrous society.

But the problems highlighted by Living While Black incidents are not solely about the ways public space is controlled. These incidents have also called attention to the ways that police are often wielded as a weapon against people of color to force compliance and exert control. And given very clear racial disparities in police use of force, this weaponization has been particularly concerning.

In the aftermath of several prominent Living While Black incidents this year, black people said that involving police immediately made them afraid. But the men and women involved also spoke of a broader feeling of dehumanization after having their presence in a place questioned.

Paul Butler, a professor at Georgetown Law and the author of Chokehold: Policing Black Men, told me that this feeling of dehumanization is particularly harmful.

“When the police are called on African Americans, it has a very negative impact on those black people, even if they are not arrested, or beat up, or killed,” Butler said. “You’re required to justify your existence and your presence in a white space. It makes you feel like less of a citizen and less of a human being. It’s impossible to overstate the adverse consequences.”

This suggests that the stories of the year are part of a much larger problem when it comes to racism in America. And solving this issue is, of course, complicated. In the short term, consequences for those making unnecessary 911 calls have been limited, and have often been imposed by the public.

While individuals making 911 calls have been subjected to online ridicule and nicknames like #BBQBecky and #PoolPatrolPaula, or occasionally fired from their jobs for attracting negative attention, only a few have actually faced legal consequences.

These stories also highlight how racism has affected all people of color in 2018 — a year in which Latinos were openly threatened with calls to ICE, Arabic speakers were subjected to racist rants for daring to use their language in public, and people carried out hate crimes targeting nonwhite houses of worship. The anger over racial profiling in Living While Black stories is inseparable from the story of Botham Jean being killed in his own home, and is connected to the outrage over a black boy being forced to cut his hair before a wrestling match.

While the circumstances of each incident may differ, they all highlight the ways in which people of color are singled out and treated as deviant, often at the cost of their dignity, or their very lives. For black Americans, the incidents that unfolded this year were a reminder that while progress has been made, black bodies in America are still too often viewed as potentially criminal and deserving suspicion.

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