Justice for Stephon Clark
With all the hashtags surrounding the March for Our Lives movement and continuous push for legislation towards ending gun violence, it is important that all communities are included in the ongoing conversation and reform. It is also important to note the intersectionality of this issue. We must realize that gun violence and police violence are not separate conversations. Amidst all the tragic shootings that have taken place, guns have also been the reasons why various unarmed black men have been fatally shot at the hands of police officers.
On March 18, twenty-two year old Stephon Clark was fatally shot in his grandparents’ backyard in Sacramento, California. The police officers had been in the area responding to a call about a car break-in. The officers said that Clark was advancing towards them with an object that they believed to be a crowbar. Even though Clark’s hands are up in the videos that were released and the police reportedly believed he had a crowbar, the two officers on the scene did not attempt to “disarm” him. Instead, they fired their guns ten times each, killing Clark. There was no gun found on the scene nor any other weapon — Clark only held a harmless cell phone.
Yet, another example of how racism is sadly still integrated in our perception of others and can lead to the murder of an unarmed black father of two.
Even if the twenty bullets that pierced Clark’s body would not have killed him, Clark was left bleeding in the backyard and was not administered CPR. In fact, he was not provided with any other medical help for six minutes—too long a time to wait to save his life. However, it is unfortunately not a surprise that he was neglected, given the fact that they shot him twenty times and seemed to care little for his life. Why was it necessary to shoot him so many times? Why was it necessary to shoot him at all? You would think that trained police officers who retain years of experience would find a way to “unarm” a man without fatally shooting him. Given their extensive experience, you would think that they would be able to distinguish a rose gold iPhone 6 from a gun or a crowbar.
Clark was a stay-at-home father of two boys, one-year old Cairo and three-year-old Aiden. He was also a great son and brother. It is no wonder that his untimely death at the hands of two police officers caused a public uproar. Over a hundred activists gathered together in front of Clark’s local light rail station for a protest and vigil to call attention to the unjust nature of his death.
We must continue to protest because his life matters just as much as the other lives who were taken by gun violence and because policy reform and change are needed in our nation.
In recent weeks, various people and public figures resorted to Twitter and Instagram to remind the public that unjust police shootings are still occuring and that this was another tragic example of a person of color being killed even though he was unarmed and not endangering the life of anyone. It is absurd that more people are dying at the hands of police violence and gun violence. Yet, another example of how racism is sadly still integrated in our perception of others and can lead to the murder of an unarmed black father of two. And perhaps the most unexpected aspect of this whole injustice is that his family was not even informed of his death until many hours after he was fatally shot.
Last week, a GoFundMe page was initiated to help the grieving family pay for funeral expenses. Clark’s brother announced that the family wanted to bury him next to another brother who was also killed by gun violence a few years ago. In our discussion about gun violence, we must also remember Clark and the many other people who were unjustly killed by police violence and gun violence. We must continue to protest because his life matters just as much as the other lives who were taken by gun violence and because policy reform and change are needed in our nation. We cannot let the police kill yet another unarmed black man. We cannot let more people die at the end of a gun.