Will Minneapolis become the Selma of the North?
| Minneapolis
The private memorial service for George Floyd had ended and Martin Rogers stepped out into the hazy afternoon light. He walked across the street and sat down on an empty park bench, and from that vantage point, he looked back and ahead, to the struggle then and now for racial justice in America.
He recalled a recent trip to Selma, Alabama, with his wife, who grew up there. They visited the Edmund Pettus Bridge, where in 1965 state troopers and sheriff鈥檚 deputies armed with tear gas and billy clubs attacked peaceful demonstrators marching in support of voting rights for African Americans. 鈥淏loody Sunday,鈥� as the confrontation became known, marked a seminal moment in the civil rights movement and prodded Congress to pass the Voting Rights Act that year.
鈥淲alking onto that bridge 鈥� that was powerful,鈥� says Mr. Rogers, a former grade-school teacher. 鈥淵ou could feel the history of what those marchers achieved.鈥�
Why We Wrote This
Law enforcement violence against peaceful demonstrators in Selma, Alabama, in 1965 shocked the U.S. and sparked social change. Is George Floyd鈥檚 death at the hands of a police officer in Minneapolis a similar inflection point?
A Connecticut native who moved to Minneapolis in the early 1980s, he attended the memorial here for Mr. Floyd last week on behalf of the 海角大神 church where he serves as an elder. He heard the Rev. Al Sharpton deliver a stirring eulogy for Mr. Floyd, the Black security guard who died on Memorial Day under the knee of a white police officer as other officers held him down.
鈥淲hat happened to Floyd happens every day in this country 鈥� in education, in health services, and in every area of American life,鈥� Mr. Sharpton told mourners, his voice rising. 鈥淚t鈥檚 time for us to stand up in George鈥檚 name and say, 鈥楪et your knee off our necks!鈥欌��
The viral video of Mr. Floyd鈥檚 death ignited outrage and massive protests in Minneapolis that spread across the country, creating a groundswell that could represent the start of the nation鈥檚 largest grassroots movement since civil rights and the Vietnam War. The prospect inspires cautious hope among residents that their city might emerge from an uprising born of tragedy as the Selma of the North.
鈥淲hat we鈥檙e seeing is a step forward,鈥� Mr. Rogers says. 鈥淐hange takes time, and I鈥檓 not sure everybody is ready to change. Black people 鈥� we鈥檙e ready. What we need is for everyone to stay involved and stay passionate.鈥�
A different kind of movement
Civil rights luminaries, religious leaders, and politicians joined Mr. Floyd鈥檚 family for the memorial to commemorate his life and call for racial equality. Outside the sanctuary, a sound system carried the words of Mr. Sharpton and other speakers to hundreds of people gathered on the streets and in a nearby park. The demonstrators bore messages of solidarity 鈥� 鈥淩est in Power George,鈥� 鈥淏lack Lives Matter,鈥� 鈥淚 Can鈥檛 Breathe鈥� 鈥� on T-shirts, face masks, and cardboard signs.
between people of color and the city鈥檚 predominantly white police force exploded after a bystander鈥檚 video surfaced of Officer Derek Chauvin kneeling on Mr. Floyd鈥檚 neck for almost nine minutes. Shonda Henderson, who has raised her six children in Minneapolis, warns her two teenage sons to avoid cops whenever possible, a concern rooted in the for .
鈥淚 want to see the police violence against us stop and law enforcement start working for us,鈥� says Ms. Henderson, a housekeeper at a downtown hotel. The demographics of the protesters 鈥� as much as the number and size of recent rallies 鈥� give her reason to think the emotion of the moment could evolve into a sustained movement.
鈥淲hat鈥檚 different this time is I鈥檓 seeing everybody out here 鈥� Caucasians, Asians, Latinos. It鈥檚 not just African Americans,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e鈥檙e all sticking up for each other and realizing that these issues of equality affect every one of us.鈥�
Millennials and Generation Z have supplied much of the energy and momentum behind the demand for racial justice in Minneapolis and elsewhere. Mariana Noyola, who will enter ninth grade this fall, convinced her parents to attend the gathering outside the memorial service.
鈥淚t鈥檚 scary to be African American in America. We鈥檙e looked at differently, we鈥檙e seen as dangerous, we feel more threatened,鈥� she says. 鈥淥ther people feel like our Blackness is some kind of weapon.鈥�
The teenager sounded weary beyond her years as she recited the names of Black men killed by police in Minneapolis and other cities the past few years: Jamar Clark, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, Michael Brown.
鈥淲e don鈥檛 want this to keep happening,鈥� she says. 鈥淪o we鈥檙e making sure that we鈥檙e heard and we鈥檙e seen so that our future doesn鈥檛 look like the past.鈥�
The looting and destruction of hundreds of businesses hindered聽the first days of protests. Along Lake Street in South Minneapolis, one of the most racially diverse and hardest-hit stretches in the city, many of the small-business owners are people of color and include immigrants from Somalia, Laos, and an array of other countries.
Marvin Applewhite launched a GoFundMe campaign that raised more than $53,000 to provide cleanup services for businesses in the area. He considers his multicultural, multiethnic team of volunteers reflective of the communal will to remedy racial friction.
鈥淕eorge Floyd鈥檚 death has brought people together who I鈥檝e never seen coming together here,鈥� he says. 鈥淎nd now they鈥檙e coming together across the country.鈥�
Near the end of his eulogy for Mr. Floyd last week, Mr. Sharpton declaimed, 鈥淵ou changed the world, George. We going to keep marching, George. We going to keep fighting, George.鈥�
Shae Noyola, Mariana鈥檚 mother, added a coda intended for the city and country alike. 鈥淒on鈥檛 want change,鈥� she says. 鈥淢ake change.鈥�
Grief and catharsis
A shrine has bloomed at the intersection where George Floyd gasped his final breaths outside a corner grocery store. A mural of him adorns one of the shop鈥檚 exterior walls, his head encircled by a halo of names of people killed by police. Beneath the painting lies a welter of flower bouquets, handmade placards, photos, and other offerings of anguish, anger, and unity.
Around the corner, marking the spot of his death, a chalk drawing on the pavement shows a human figure with angel鈥檚 wings.
Visitors by the hundreds eddied through the site on the day of Mr. Floyd鈥檚 memorial as the mood drifted between block party and open-air wake. Smoke from barbecue grills swirled in the air while volunteers served free food and distributed donated goods. A series of speakers and musicians took to a stage erected in the middle of the street. Almost every one of them yelled out to the crowd, 鈥淲hat鈥檚 his name?鈥� Each time the reply arrived like cracks of thunder: 鈥淕eorge! Floyd!鈥�
Here, at the junction of grief and catharsis, Lorraine Gurley felt at once downcast and uplifted. Thirty years ago, responding to a report of a neighborhood party turned unruly, a white Minneapolis cop her unarmed brother in the back.
The case provoked racial animus and local protests. But unlike the four officers involved in Mr. Floyd鈥檚 death, the patrolman who killed Tycel Nelson neither faced criminal charges nor lost his job, ascending to the rank of lieutenant over the ensuing two decades.
Ms. Gurley, a pastor at a church on the city鈥檚 north side, wonders whether Mr. Floyd would be alive if the city had imposed reforms on the department after her brother鈥檚 shooting. She wants the next three decades of policing in Minneapolis and across the country to bear little semblance to the past three.
鈥淭here has been so much frustration, so much sorrow, so much loss and death in the Black community. We have to change the system,鈥� she says. A message written in chalk on the pavement behind her read, 鈥淭ogether We Will Change The World.鈥�
鈥淎ll the things we wish could鈥檝e happened when my baby brother died 鈥� that鈥檚 what we hope will happen now.鈥�
鈥淕ood intentions aren鈥檛 enough鈥�
The pressure exerted by the protests has begun to alter city policy. A veto-proof majority of the Minneapolis City Council vowed this week to replace the police department with a new public safety system, and the police chief announced the department鈥檚 withdrawal from contract negotiations with the officers union.
At the same time, the demands for reform in Minneapolis and other cities extend beyond revamping law enforcement. The surging movement encompasses a broader desire to redress racial inequality in employment and education, in housing and health care, in the culture of everyday American life.
A reputation for liberal politics and policies contrasts with wide 聽in Minneapolis between people of color and white residents, who make up about 60% of the population. The enduring inequities 鈥� magnified by 鈥� raise questions among some Black activists about the city鈥檚 potential to equal Selma鈥檚 legacy.
Shanene Herbert runs the healing justice program for the Minneapolis office of the American Friends Service Committee, a Quaker organization that promotes social equality. Reacting to in Minnesota offering statements of support and for the cause of social justice, she says, 鈥淲hy now? Do you need your name attached to it? Will you leave when the cameras go?鈥�
Yet if experience informs her skepticism, the huge wave of young adults powering the protests here and nationwide gives her a sense of optimism. 鈥淥ur younger generation doesn鈥檛 have the patience of the older generations,鈥� Ms. Herbert says. 鈥淭hey鈥檝e seen enough. They鈥檝e been traumatized and they鈥檙e not willing to wait for change.鈥�
The urgency cuts across racial lines. Ella Masters grew up attending Trinity Lutheran Church in South Minneapolis, where last week organizers set up a distribution site for donated goods in the parking lot. The area鈥檚 two grocery stores and largest department store were among several businesses damaged or destroyed by rioters.
Ms. Masters and her partner, Cameron Kinghorn, drove to the church from their home a few miles away to donate laundry detergent, diapers, and other essential items requested by organizers. Without ignoring the toll on businesses, they credit the scale and duration of the protests for forcing the city to reexamine its relationship with race.
鈥淎 human life is more important than property,鈥� says Ms. Masters, who is white. 鈥淲e need people to get out of their comfort zone and start acting to save lives. Good intentions aren鈥檛 enough.鈥�
Mr. Kinghorn, who is biracial, related that the recent upheaval has nudged some of his friends and acquaintances to reevaluate their passive advocacy for equality. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e looking for ways they can actively help,鈥� he says. He hopes more of his cohort will step forward to push Minneapolis in the direction of Selma as a historical symbol of racial justice.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 know if we can ever reach that level,鈥� he says. 鈥淏ut I think there鈥檚 a chance, and I would not have said that a couple of weeks ago.鈥�
