5 years after George Floyd: What we've learned from the ebbs and flows of progress
Five years ago, the world watched as George Floyd slowly died under the knee of Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Brother Floyd was not the first Black man killed by an overzealous police officer, nor even the first caught on video. But the combination of his constant refrain of 'I can't breathe' and the expression of utter disregard for human life demonstrated on Officer Chauvin's face etched this moment into the consciousness of our nation.
Floyd's murder ignited nationwide protests, the largest since the civil rights movement. In communities large and small, people marched in fury and in grief, demanding justice not only for George Floyd but for every life cut short by police violence. They called for something deeper: an end to the systemic racism that has brutalized Black communities for centuries.
For a while, it felt like real change was possible. Cities debated reducing bloated police budgets and investing in addressing the root causes of violence in our communities. Corporations made commitments to racial equity. Politicians, even some who had long ignored calls for reform, found their voices and joined the chorus calling for change.
Unfortunately, as in every era when victories against racism have been won, the backlash against reforms came swiftly. We are seeing that now. But our fight for justice must continue.
Over the past five years, we have witnessed an aggressive effort to claw back not just the gains from 2020 but decades of progress on racial equity. Politicians and media figures turned 'wokeness' into a slur. In 2022, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis signed into law the 'Stop W.O.K.E. Act,' restricting schools and workplaces from providing education about systemic racism, and thousands of books about race and marginalized people were banned.
Corporations eager to support equity initiatives in the aftermath of Floyd's murder appeared relieved to be freed of the responsibility for Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Accessibility by the edicts of Project 2025 and the current administration's flood of executive orders. In abandoning these responsibilities, they also abandoned people as they rushed to curry favor with politicians.
This backlash of hate and bigotry, the abandonment of principles of equity and fairness, the flaming of fear, and the theology of scarcity cannot stand. Every step toward reform is met with retrenchment, a doubling down on the very racist and unfair systems we seek to dismantle. After Reconstruction came Jim Crow. After the civil rights movement came mass incarceration. And, after Barack Obama and Black Lives Matter came Project 2025.
Despite this reactionary tide, we must remember the many victories we have won, and understand deep in our being that there is no victory without a fight.
Illinois, where I live, was one of the few states to take real, tangible action in the wake of the 2020 uprisings. While much of the country settled for symbolic gestures, the Illinois legislative Black caucus championed and secured the passage of several omnibus bills aimed at addressing systemic racism throughout our state. Among them was one of the most ambitious packages of criminal justice reforms in recent memory.
Illinois became the first state in the nation to eliminate the use of money bond, ending a system where freedom was bought and sold, which disproportionately harmed Black and minority communities. Guardians of the status quo prophesied chaos and destruction, and stoked the flames of fear and division; yet, a year later, crime rates are dropping, and individuals accused of crimes are appearing in court as required. Results prove that centering safety and justice works.
Ending the outdated and absurd practice of forcing people to purchase their freedom while awaiting trial was a direct response to calls for systemic change. It demonstrated what is possible when we collectively raise good trouble. It serves as proof of democracy in action, showing that public outcry can lead to concrete policy shifts and that marches can result in tangible legislative changes.
Good trouble, or Holy mischief, is not just a civic ethic but a spiritual principle central to the ministry of Jesus. Pretrial fairness demands that those who claim a faith tradition consider: do we believe in compassion, redemption, restoration and equity, or is our faith nothing more than a hollow trinket used for personal status and psychological comfort?
But Illinois was an exception, not the rule. Across the country, police budgets have ballooned, and reform measures have been walked back. Still, that revolutionary summer of 2020 mattered. It demonstrated the strength of collective action, even in the midst of a global pandemic. It reminded us that millions of people from diverse races, classes and ethnicities were willing to leave their homes and publicly declare that this is not the country we want to live in. These are not our values. We can do better.
The backlash has been loud, but we can be louder. We must remember that half of the country didn't vote for the current administration and that most Democrats, along with a quarter of Republicans, believe we could do more to advance racial equality. And we can. We must keep pushing the needle forward, just as generations before us did. The fight for racial justice will take time. It may feel hopeless at times. But that hopelessness becomes real only if we silently comply.
With our nation once again at a historic crossroads, it is essential for us to recommit to uprooting racism and resisting forces that seek to dismantle our democracy. The future of our country depends on it.
Rev. Dr. Otis Moss III is the senior pastor of Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Hamilton Spectator
an hour ago
- Hamilton Spectator
A Border Patrol agent died in 2009. His widow is still fighting a backlogged US program for benefits
When her husband died after a grueling U.S. Border Patrol training program for new agents, Lisa Afolayan applied for the federal benefits promised to families of first responders whose lives are cut short in the line of duty. Sixteen years later, Afolayan and her two daughters haven't seen a penny, and program officials are defending their decisions to deny them compensation. She calls it a nightmare that too many grieving families experience. 'It just makes me so mad that we are having to fight this so hard,' said Afolayan, whose husband, Nate, had been hired to guard the U.S. border with Mexico in southern California. 'It takes a toll emotionally, and I don't think they care. To them, it's just a business. They're just pushing paper.' Afolayan's case is part of a backlog of claims plaguing the fast-growing Public Safety Officers' Benefits Program. Hundreds of families of deceased and disabled officers are waiting years to learn whether they qualify for the life-changing payments, and more are ultimately being denied, an Associated Press analysis of program data found. The program is falling far short of its goal of deciding claims within one year. Nearly 900 have been pending for longer than that, triple the number from five years earlier, in a backlog that includes cases from nearly every state, according to AP's review, which was based on program data through late April. More than 120 of those claims have been in limbo for at least five years, and roughly a dozen have languished for a decade. 'That is just outrageous that the person has to wait that long,' said Charlie Lauer, the program's general counsel in the 1980s. 'Those poor families.' Justice Department officials, who oversee the program, acknowledge the backlog. They say they're managing a surge in claims — which have more than doubled in the last five years — while making complicated decisions about whether cases meet legal criteria. In a statement, they said 'claims involving complex medical and causation issues, voluminous evidence and conflicting medical opinions take longer to determine, as do claims in various stages of appeal.' It acknowledged a few cases 'continue through the process over ten years.' Program officials wouldn't comment on Afolayan's case. Federal lawyers are asking an appeals court for a second time to uphold their denials, which blame Nate's heat- and exertion-related death on a genetic condition shared by millions of mostly Black U.S. citizens. Supporters say Lisa Afolayan's resilience in pursuing the claim has been remarkable, and grown in significance as training-related deaths like Nate's have risen. 'Your death must fit in their box, or your family's not going to be taken care of,' said Afolayan, of suburban Dallas. Their daughter, Natalee, was 3 when her father died. She recently completed her first year at the University of Texas, without the help of the higher education benefits the program provides. The officers' benefits program is decades old and has paid billions Congress created the Public Safety Officers' Benefits program in 1976, providing a one-time $50,000 payout as a guarantee for those whose loved ones die in the line of duty. The benefit was later set to adjust with inflation; today it pays $448,575. The program has awarded more than $2.4 billion. Early on, claims were often adjudicated within weeks. But the complexity increased in 1990, when Congress extended the program to some disabled officers. A 1998 law added educational benefits for spouses and children. Since 2020, Congress has passed three laws expanding eligibility — to officers who died after contracting COVID-19, first responders who died or were disabled in rescue and cleanup operations from the September 2001 attacks, and some who die by suicide. Today, the program sees 1,200 claims annually, up from 500 in 2019. The wait time for decisions and rate of denials have risen alongside the caseload. Roughly one of every three death and disability claims were rejected over the last year. U.S. Sen. Ted Cruz and other Republicans recently introduced legislation to require the program to make determinations within 270 days, expressing outrage over the case of an officer disabled in a mass shooting who's waited years for a ruling. Similar legislation died last year. One group representing families, Concerns of Police Survivors, has expressed no such concerns about the program's management. The Missouri-based nonprofit recently received a $6 million grant to continue its longstanding partnership with the Justice Department to serve deceased officers' relatives — including providing counseling, hosting memorial events and assisting with claims. 'We are very appreciative of the PSOB and their work with survivor benefits,' spokesperson Sara Slone said. 'Not all line-of-duty deaths are the same and therefore processing times will differ.' Nate Afolayan dreamed of serving his adopted country Born in Nigeria, Nate Afolayan moved to California with relatives at age 11. He became a U.S. citizen and graduated from California State University a decade later. Lisa met Nate while they worked together at a juvenile probation office. They talked, went out for lunch and felt sparks. 'The next thing you know, we were married with two kids,' she said. He decided to pursue a career in law enforcement once their second daughter was born. Lisa supported him, though she understood the danger. He spent a year working out while applying for jobs and was thrilled when the Border Patrol declared him medically fit; sent him to Artesia, New Mexico, for training; and swore him in. Nate loved his 10 weeks at the academy, Lisa said, despite needing medical treatment several times — he was shot with pepper spray in the face and became dizzy during a water-based drill. His classmates found him to be a natural leader in elite shape and chose him to speak at graduation, they recalled in interviews with investigators. He prepared a speech with the line, 'We are all warriors that stand up and fight for what's right, just and lawful.' But on April 30, 2009 — days before the ceremony — a Border Patrol official called Lisa. Nate, 29, had fainted after his final training run and was hospitalized. It was dusty and 88 degrees in the high desert that afternoon. Agents had to complete the 1.5-mile run in 13 minutes, at an altitude of 3,400 feet. Nate had warned classmates it was too hot to wear their black academy shirts, but they voted to do so anyway, records show. Nate, 29, finished in just over 11 minutes but then struggled to breathe and collapsed. Now Nate was being airlifted to a Lubbock, Texas, hospital for advanced treatment. Lisa booked a last-minute flight, arriving the next day. A doctor told her Nate's organs had shut down and they couldn't save his life. The hospital needed permission to end life-saving efforts. One nurse delivered chest compressions; another held Lisa tightly as she yelled: 'That's it! I can't take it anymore!' Lisa became a single mother. The girls were 3 and 1. Her only comfort, she said, was knowing Nate died living his dream — serving his adopted country. Sickle cell trait was cited in this benefit denial When she first applied for benefits, Lisa included the death certificate that listed heat illness as the cause of Nate's death. The aid could help her family. She'd been studying to become a nurse but had to abandon that plan. She relied on Social Security survivors' benefits and workers' compensation while working at gyms as a trainer or receptionist and dabbling in real estate. The program had paid benefits for a handful of similar training deaths, dating to a Massachusetts officer who suffered heat stroke and dehydration in 1988. But program staff wanted another opinion on Nate's death. They turned to outside forensic pathologist Dr. Stephen Cina. Cina concluded the autopsy overlooked the 'most significant factor': Nate carried sickle cell trait, a condition that's usually benign but has been linked to rare exertion-related deaths in military, sports and law enforcement training . Cina opined that exercising in a hot climate at high altitude triggered a crisis in which Nate's red blood cells became misshapen, depriving his body of oxygen. Cina, who stopped consulting for the benefits program in 2020 after hundreds of case reviews, declined to comment. Nate learned he had the condition, carried by up to 3 million U.S. Black citizens, after a blood test following his second daughter's birth. The former high school basketball player had never experienced any problems. A Border Patrol spokesperson declined to say whether academy leaders knew of the condition, which experts say can be managed with precautions such as staying hydrated, avoiding workouts in extreme temperatures and altitudes, and taking rest breaks. Under the benefit program's rules, Afolayan's death would need to be 'the direct and proximate result' of an injury he suffered on duty to qualify. It couldn't be the result of ordinary physical strain. The program in 2012 rejected the claim, saying the hot, dry, high climate was one factor, but not the most important. It had been more than two years since Lisa Afolayan applied and three since Nate's death. Lisa Afolayan's appeal was not common Most rejected applicants don't exercise their option to appeal to an independent hearing officer, saying they can't afford attorneys or want to get on with their lives. But Lisa Afolayan appealed with help from a border patrol union. A one-day hearing was held in late 2012. The hearing officer denied her claim more than a year later, saying the 'perfect storm' of factors causing the death didn't include a qualifying injury. Lisa and her daughters moved from California to Texas. They visited the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial in Washington, where they saw Nate's name. Four years passed without an update on the claim. Lisa learned the union had failed to exercise its final appeal, to the program director, due to an oversight. The union didn't respond to AP emails seeking comment. Then she met Suzie Sawyer, founder and retired executive director of Concerns of Police Survivors. Sawyer had recently helped win a long battle to obtain benefits in the death of another federal agent who'd collapsed during training. 'I said, 'Lisa, this could be the fight of your life, and it could take forever,'' Sawyer recalled. ''Are you willing to do it?' She goes, 'hell yes.'' The two persuaded the program to hear the appeal even though the deadline had passed. They introduced a list of similar claims that had been granted and new evidence: A Tennessee medical examiner concluded the hot, dry environment and altitude were key factors causing Nate's organ-system failure. But the program was unmoved. The acting Bureau of Justice Assistance director upheld the denial in 2020. Such rulings usually aren't public, but Lisa fumed as she learned through contacts about some whose deaths qualified, including a trooper who had an allergic reaction to a bee sting, an intoxicated FBI agent who crashed his car, and another officer with sickle cell trait who died after a training run on a hot day. Today, an appeal is still pending In 2022, Lisa thought she might have finally prevailed when a federal appeals court ordered the program to take another look at her application. A three-judge panel said the program erred by failing to consider whether the heat, humidity and altitude during the run were 'the type of unusual or out-of-the-ordinary climatic conditions that would qualify.' The judges also said it may have been illegal to rely on sickle cell trait for the denial under a federal law prohibiting employers from discrimination on the basis of genetic information. It was great timing: The girls were in high school and could use the monthly benefit of $1,530 to help pay for college. The family's Social Security and workers' compensation benefits would end soon. But the program was in no hurry. Nearly two years passed without a ruling despite inquiries from Afolayan and her lawyer. The Bureau of Justice Assistance director upheld the denial in February 2024, ruling that the climate on that day 15 years earlier wasn't 'unusually adverse.' The decision concluded the Genetic Information Nondiscrimination Act didn't apply since the program wasn't Afolayan's employer. Arnold & Porter, a Washington law firm now representing Afolayan pro bono, has appealed to the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit. Her attorney John Elwood said the program has gotten bogged down in minutiae while losing sight of the bigger picture: that an officer died during mandatory training. He said government lawyers are fighting him just as hard, 'if not harder,' than on any other case he's handled. Months after filing their briefs, oral arguments haven't been set. 'This has been my life for 16 years,' Lisa Afolayan said. 'Sometimes I just chuckle and keep moving because what else am I going to do?' Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .
Yahoo
4 hours ago
- Yahoo
Palestinians travelers detained at SFO airport, denied entry despite valid visas
The Brief Supporters of the visitors gathered at the airport's international terminal. A San Francisco supervisor said the detention was an "unprecedented suppression of speech." Supporters protested at the airport for over eight hours, demanding their visas be reinstated. SAN FRANCISCO - Two Palestinian travelers were denied entry into the United States despite having valid visitor visas. Supporters gathered at the San Francisco International Airport on Thursday, protesting the detention of the Palestinians, including San Francisco Supervisor Bilal Mahmood. Supporters of the visitors gathered at the airport's international terminal. The pair arrived on Wednesday after being invited to participate in a Bay Area interfaith speaking series. The visitors were detained for over 18 hours, according to the nonprofit Arab Resource and Organizing Center. The nonprofit said the travelers were an educator and an artist with a "longstanding relationship" with Piedmont's Kehilla Community Synagogue and Alameda's Buena Vista United Methodist Church. The organization said they were on a humanitarian mission to thank their supporters at the synagogue and to fundraise for a summer camp in their village, Masafer Yatta. What they're saying "They had valid visas on entry and yet they were revoked on entry," Mahmood said. "According to the public defender's office, when I talked with them earlier [Thursday], and were the first to notify me of this issue as well. They haven't heard of this type of issue happening in over 10 years at SFO." Mahmood said the detention was an "unprecedented suppression of speech." "This overreach to deport peace activists sets a dangerous precedent for the direction of our nation. Now more than ever, it is important for us all to speak out against injustice and fight to defend our civil rights," he said. Supporters protested at the airport for over eight hours, demanding their visas be reinstated. However, the pair were eventually booked on a 4 p.m. to Doha, Qatar by officials. It's unclear why the pair was denied entry and U.S. Customs and Border Patrol has not commented. "While we weren't able to reverse this unjust detention today, we did demonstrate that we will mobilize by the hundreds at a moment's notice to defend our people," said Mohamed Shehk with the nonprofit. "The genocide against our loved ones in Gaza is still raging on. We must also resist the fascist ICE raids on our immigrant communities and end the attacks on Black and brown people everywhere." KTVU reached out to Kehilla Community Synagogue and Buena Vista United Methodist Church for comment but did not hear in time for publication.
Boston Globe
8 hours ago
- Boston Globe
‘He is not just a nobody': Mother of R.I. man with disabilities shot by police begs for answers
Regina Socree said she found out her son Get Rhode Island News Alerts Sign up to get breaking news and interesting stories from Rhode Island in your inbox each weekday. Enter Email Sign Up Sebastian Yidana, 28, of Pawtucket, R.I., was shot and wounded by a Pawtucket officer on June 8 while holding a toy gun. Police charged him with two counts of felony assault with a fake gun, on the officer and another person in a separate incident. Regina Socree Advertisement Yidana has bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, which he's been treated for over the past 10 years. His mother has power of attorney to handle his affairs. The doctor called her because Yidana is too ill to understand and make his own decisions, Socree said. Yidana is hospitalized in police custody, charged on Wednesday with two felony counts of assault with a device like a firearm and disorderly conduct. He is scheduled to be arraigned in District Court on Monday. 'He needs help. He's almost like a child. He needs his mother,' Socree said. 'He is not just a nobody. He is my son.' Socree said she went to the Advertisement 'I need to be with my son. He needs to know that he has his mother out there that cares for him, that wants to be with him,' she said. Pawtucket State Representative Cherie Cruz and Alexis Morales, the Pawtucket Program Director at Project Weber/RENEW, urged the police to drop the charges against Yidana and explain what happened. 'There has to be a different response than just shoot first and ask questions later,' Cruz said. 'And we need to see the body cameras. We need to know what happened, so we can do better in the future.' Morales, whose son is autistic and nonverbal, said that incidents like this make him and other parents fear for their children when they encounter law enforcement. 'That fear is real, and it's why I'm standing here today, because there's absolutely no reason, none, why Sebastian, a young Black man known in this community as someone living with mental illness, should have been shot on sight by trained police officers simply for carrying a toy gun,' Morales said. Pawtucket The department's use of force policy authorizes officers to use lethal force to protect themselves or others, when the officer has a reasonable belief that an imminent threat of death or serious bodily injury exists. The policy says that, when feasible, police officers will identify themselves and state their intent to use lethal force. Advertisement Officer Letourneau has been on the job for a few years and has been a field-training officer. He is on administrative leave while the shooting is investigated by the attorney general's office, state police, and Pawtucket police. Mayor Don Grebien did not take questions from the media on Friday, but through a spokesman, said the shooting was 'a serious and unfortunate incident.' 'I recognize that this is a difficult time for the family of Sebastian Yidana and my thoughts are with them as he recovers,' Grebien said in a statement. 'I look forward to reviewing the results of the ongoing investigation by the Rhode Island Attorney General's Office, the Rhode Island State Police, and the Pawtucket Police Department. We remain committed to transparency and working closely with our Police Department to ensure that our use of force policies and training reflect the highest standards of safety and responsibility.' The Pawtucket police have not responded to the Globe's public records requests for police reports, police logs, or the videos from Letourneau's body-worn camera. When Yidana was a student at Paul Cuffee charter school in Providence, he impressed his teachers with his intelligence and kindness. 'He was an awesome kid, an awesome student, extremely involved in the school,' Megan Thoma, his former humanities teacher, told the Globe in an interview this week. 'He was really an exemplary student. We thought he was going to come back and teach some day.' Yidana was a sophomore when he finished Advertisement Yidana loved education, and the school staff were touched by his earnestness. 'He's a total sweetheart, a little bit nerdy, and when someone was very sweet to him, you were very happy,' Thoma said. He graduated from Paul Cuffee School in 2015 and started his first semester at the University of Rhode Island. Around that time, his mother and his former teachers noticed the first signs of mental illness in Yidana. He dropped out of URI after his first semester, and he has been in and out of treatment since then, his mother said. His former teachers have occasionally seen him out on the street, sometimes carrying a plastic bag of his things, looking like he wasn't taking care of himself. After hearing about the shooting on Sunday, his former middle school teacher texted Thoma. They scrambled to try to help. 'We're a very small community,' Thoma said. 'He's a kid who is regularly on our minds.' Yidana, who lives on his own in an apartment on Goff Avenue, near where he was shot, is known in the area. He often visits the library, where he loves to read, and plays basketball at the local YMCA, his mother said. 'He's a good boy. He's quiet. He keeps to himself,' Socree said. 'Most of the people around here do know Sebastian. He's a very kind and giving person.' Some of the Pawtucket officers know him too, she said, and have interacted with him without problems. A few months ago, Yidana was at the station after an incident, Socree said, and the police arranged with an advocate from Gateway Healthcare to help him. Advertisement 'They know he's ill, because they had an encounter with him and he was sent to the hospital,' Socree said. 'Why didn't they try to do it this time? Why didn't they try to find another way to disarm him without shooting him? They could have killed him.' Amanda Milkovits can be reached at
