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When I heard about the police shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, I thought back to another name etched into American history: Dred Scott.
In 1857, the Supreme Court was tasked with deciding whether Scott, an African American man born into slavery, should be granted his freedom. The justices not only denied Scott's request, but also took the opportunity to send a chilling message to all African Americans, free and enslaved, that reverberates to this day.
The court held that as members of an inferior race, African Americans were not citizens at all -- and, as such, did not even have legal standing to sue. African Americans, as Chief Justice Roger Taney so decisively determined, had "no rights which the white man was bound to respect."
The next century was characterized by an ongoing struggle to prove Taney wrong.
African American heroism during the Civil War era hastened the passage of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments, which ended slavery and (theoretically) reversed race-based restrictions on citizenship. Yet these gains were negated almost as quickly as they were realized, as the strong grip of Jim Crow choked communities throughout the South.
Over the violent decades that followed, African Americans endured church bombings, harassment, and police beatings and animal attacks, like the brutalities inflicted on those marching across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in 1965. This sacrifice of the black body, along with sustained lobbying, ultimately led to the enactment of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
Yet even today, second-class citizenship continues. It shows up in generational poverty, a disparate education system, mass incarceration, and violence at the hands of police.
In fact, African Americans are three times as likely as whites to be killed by police, even though they're twice as likely to be unarmed. That's produced a slew of names that, like Dred Scott's, may loom over our history for centuries because of the rights they were denied.
In 2012, Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis, both of whom had committed no crimes or infractions of any sort, were deprived of their constitutional right to life by self-deputized racists who proclaimed themselves judge, juror, and executioner and gunned them down.
That same year, Rekia Boyd was murdered under a hail of bullets by an off-duty police officer who reproached Boyd and her friends for talking too loudly, depriving her of her right to free speech, freedom of assembly, and life.
In August 2014, Michael Brown's right to a fair and public trial was violated by the police officer who shot him and callously left his lifeless body to bleed out in the street.
Walter Scott's life and right to due process were taken in April 2015 at the hands of a law enforcement officer, who then had the audacity to plant his weapon next to Scott's motionless body on the ground -- all over a mere traffic violation.
On July 5, 2016, Alton Sterling, a father of five who was selling CDs to provide for his children, was murdered by law enforcement officers who violated his Fourth Amendment right to prevent unwarranted search and seizure simply because he fit a certain profile.
Less than 48 hours later, Philando Castile was pulled over for a broken tail light. Castile's non-threatening disclosure that he was legally carrying a concealed weapon prompted a police officer to murder him in front of his partner and her four-year-old daughter, violating his Second Amendment right to bear arms.
In 2016, one would hope that the "inalienable rights" of all Americans are respected. Yet Taney's words that African Americans "have no rights which the white man was bound to respect" still ring loud and clear.
The fight for full African American citizenship continues.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
When I heard about the police shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, I thought back to another name etched into American history: Dred Scott.
In 1857, the Supreme Court was tasked with deciding whether Scott, an African American man born into slavery, should be granted his freedom. The justices not only denied Scott's request, but also took the opportunity to send a chilling message to all African Americans, free and enslaved, that reverberates to this day.
The court held that as members of an inferior race, African Americans were not citizens at all -- and, as such, did not even have legal standing to sue. African Americans, as Chief Justice Roger Taney so decisively determined, had "no rights which the white man was bound to respect."
The next century was characterized by an ongoing struggle to prove Taney wrong.
African American heroism during the Civil War era hastened the passage of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments, which ended slavery and (theoretically) reversed race-based restrictions on citizenship. Yet these gains were negated almost as quickly as they were realized, as the strong grip of Jim Crow choked communities throughout the South.
Over the violent decades that followed, African Americans endured church bombings, harassment, and police beatings and animal attacks, like the brutalities inflicted on those marching across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in 1965. This sacrifice of the black body, along with sustained lobbying, ultimately led to the enactment of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
Yet even today, second-class citizenship continues. It shows up in generational poverty, a disparate education system, mass incarceration, and violence at the hands of police.
In fact, African Americans are three times as likely as whites to be killed by police, even though they're twice as likely to be unarmed. That's produced a slew of names that, like Dred Scott's, may loom over our history for centuries because of the rights they were denied.
In 2012, Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis, both of whom had committed no crimes or infractions of any sort, were deprived of their constitutional right to life by self-deputized racists who proclaimed themselves judge, juror, and executioner and gunned them down.
That same year, Rekia Boyd was murdered under a hail of bullets by an off-duty police officer who reproached Boyd and her friends for talking too loudly, depriving her of her right to free speech, freedom of assembly, and life.
In August 2014, Michael Brown's right to a fair and public trial was violated by the police officer who shot him and callously left his lifeless body to bleed out in the street.
Walter Scott's life and right to due process were taken in April 2015 at the hands of a law enforcement officer, who then had the audacity to plant his weapon next to Scott's motionless body on the ground -- all over a mere traffic violation.
On July 5, 2016, Alton Sterling, a father of five who was selling CDs to provide for his children, was murdered by law enforcement officers who violated his Fourth Amendment right to prevent unwarranted search and seizure simply because he fit a certain profile.
Less than 48 hours later, Philando Castile was pulled over for a broken tail light. Castile's non-threatening disclosure that he was legally carrying a concealed weapon prompted a police officer to murder him in front of his partner and her four-year-old daughter, violating his Second Amendment right to bear arms.
In 2016, one would hope that the "inalienable rights" of all Americans are respected. Yet Taney's words that African Americans "have no rights which the white man was bound to respect" still ring loud and clear.
The fight for full African American citizenship continues.
When I heard about the police shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, I thought back to another name etched into American history: Dred Scott.
In 1857, the Supreme Court was tasked with deciding whether Scott, an African American man born into slavery, should be granted his freedom. The justices not only denied Scott's request, but also took the opportunity to send a chilling message to all African Americans, free and enslaved, that reverberates to this day.
The court held that as members of an inferior race, African Americans were not citizens at all -- and, as such, did not even have legal standing to sue. African Americans, as Chief Justice Roger Taney so decisively determined, had "no rights which the white man was bound to respect."
The next century was characterized by an ongoing struggle to prove Taney wrong.
African American heroism during the Civil War era hastened the passage of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments, which ended slavery and (theoretically) reversed race-based restrictions on citizenship. Yet these gains were negated almost as quickly as they were realized, as the strong grip of Jim Crow choked communities throughout the South.
Over the violent decades that followed, African Americans endured church bombings, harassment, and police beatings and animal attacks, like the brutalities inflicted on those marching across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in 1965. This sacrifice of the black body, along with sustained lobbying, ultimately led to the enactment of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
Yet even today, second-class citizenship continues. It shows up in generational poverty, a disparate education system, mass incarceration, and violence at the hands of police.
In fact, African Americans are three times as likely as whites to be killed by police, even though they're twice as likely to be unarmed. That's produced a slew of names that, like Dred Scott's, may loom over our history for centuries because of the rights they were denied.
In 2012, Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis, both of whom had committed no crimes or infractions of any sort, were deprived of their constitutional right to life by self-deputized racists who proclaimed themselves judge, juror, and executioner and gunned them down.
That same year, Rekia Boyd was murdered under a hail of bullets by an off-duty police officer who reproached Boyd and her friends for talking too loudly, depriving her of her right to free speech, freedom of assembly, and life.
In August 2014, Michael Brown's right to a fair and public trial was violated by the police officer who shot him and callously left his lifeless body to bleed out in the street.
Walter Scott's life and right to due process were taken in April 2015 at the hands of a law enforcement officer, who then had the audacity to plant his weapon next to Scott's motionless body on the ground -- all over a mere traffic violation.
On July 5, 2016, Alton Sterling, a father of five who was selling CDs to provide for his children, was murdered by law enforcement officers who violated his Fourth Amendment right to prevent unwarranted search and seizure simply because he fit a certain profile.
Less than 48 hours later, Philando Castile was pulled over for a broken tail light. Castile's non-threatening disclosure that he was legally carrying a concealed weapon prompted a police officer to murder him in front of his partner and her four-year-old daughter, violating his Second Amendment right to bear arms.
In 2016, one would hope that the "inalienable rights" of all Americans are respected. Yet Taney's words that African Americans "have no rights which the white man was bound to respect" still ring loud and clear.
The fight for full African American citizenship continues.