We Matter

by Etan Thomas

  I immediately recognized that this was a teachable moment. I asked Malcolm and Camar if they noticed everything I did before the policeman approached my window. Malcolm said, “Yes, you turned off the music, rolled down the windows, and put your hands on the steering wheel,” and Camar said, “You took your wallet out before he could ask you.”

  I said, “Correct.”

  Malcolm said, “I understand why you did all that, but you shouldn’t have to do all that. You didn’t do anything wrong. All that for a broken taillight? Did they even have to pull you over like that and create that intense scene? Couldn’t they have just taken a picture of your license with their special police cameras and mail you a ticket or something?” He was getting himself worked up.

  I told him, “Okay, let’s break this whole thing down. One: I turned down my music to avoid an atmosphere of aggression. We were listening to hip-hop, which is something that comes across aggressive to a lot of foreign ears—but it’s just a good idea in general to turn off the music when you are stopped.

  “Two: I rolled down all of the windows, even the back windows, because my windows are tinted and I didn’t want the police to have any visibility issues when they approached my car. The first thing they did was shine the light inside. They shined it in Camar’s face in the back, they shined it on the floor, in the third seat, they shined it all over.

  “Three: I put both of my hands on the steering wheel so they could see my hands.

  “Four: I didn’t make any sudden movements. Even when they told me to get my license and registration. I didn’t just go get it quickly. I asked very loudly and clearly if it was okay for me to go into my glove compartment and get the registration. And I moved slowly. Very slowly. And they still shined their lights on my hands to watch me carefully.”

  Malcolm said, “You shouldn’t have to do all that, though. I get it, but we didn’t do anything wrong and he’s treating us like criminals. So, what, we gotta prove to him that we are not criminals? That’s not fair.”

  I explained to Malcolm that fair ain’t got nothin’ to do with this. The number one goal is to get home safely, period. But nine times out of ten, they are afraid when they approach a car with Black people in it. That’s just the way it is. Is it the way it should be? No, of course not. But it’s the way it is. They have all the power, all the guns, the authority, but they’re the ones who are scared. And when you know someone is terrified of you and has all the power and is in a position of authority, you have to be wise with your actions. It’s about getting home safely. That’s all that matters. It’s reality and it does nobody any good for any of us to be dead in order to prove the point that this isn’t fair. Because that’s what this is—a matter of life and death. The difference between going home and discussing it like we are doing now, or becoming a hashtag and getting your name on a T-shirt. That’s not what I want. I’m tired of seeing that. We have to understand the difference between winning the battle and winning the war.

  Now, I was preparing to win the war. I put my phone in the cup holder, I verbally showed that I was in full compliance. And if anything went wrong, I had the evidence. I could sue them like Thabo Sefolosha and James Blake did. You have to make sure you do everything right in order to build your case.

  I wanted to talk to someone who had their own encounter with the police while they were a professional NBA player, so I reached out to five-time NBA all-star, former rookie of the year, Fab Five Michigan legend, and former Washington Wizard—Chris Webber. Over the years, we have developed a mutual respect for each other and I was glad that he opened up to discuss his incident while stressing the importance of making wise choices. If we don’t prepare young athletes to make wise choices, we may very well lose some potential athlete-activists before they ever get a chance to spread their wings.

  Etan: I’ve heard you say you were one party away from being dead or in jail. What did you mean by that?

  Chris Webber: If you live in certain communities or zip codes . . . you still want to have the same lifestyle as any other kid growing up. So, whether I am in the city or the suburbs or the country, at sixteen I’m going to a bonfire or a club or a party, period. The neighborhood I grew up in unfortunately was a lot more violent than others. Today they talk about Chicago—well, when I was growing up in Detroit, the numbers were far worse than the numbers commonly discussed regarding present-day Chicago. It was a really violent time . . . Some of the neighborhoods were ravaged by drugs and things of that sort and I was just aware of what was going on and the way the community was changing.

  For example, I remember a ritual was that you had to have your front lawn cut, and slowly you started to see one lawn not cut, then another, and I remember that decline in the neighborhood . . . I’ve been at parties where people have been shot and where friends have been murdered, and it was just by the grace of God that I wasn’t there at that time . . . So that’s what I mean when I say I was a party away from being dead or in jail.

  Let me also add this, because this really bothers me every time I hear it: everyone always redirects the conversation to Black-on-Black crime and police crime. They have nothing to do with each other.

  Etan: I agree, but some people always link them together, for whatever reason.

  Webber: I want to make sure I make this point and that I preface this first. I believe in helping your community, I believe in helping your brother, I believe in working together, I believe we have a special calling to be able to do that, but I don’t believe that’s anybody’s job, but it’s a policeman’s job specifically to service the community. That’s his job. So when people say, “You talk about police brutality, but you never speak about Black-on-Black crime,” my first question is, “What other citizens are asked to police their own neighborhoods?” And to put that community that has been trivialized, and under a system that helps perpetuate some of the things that happen in the community, it’s almost laughable to put that onus and that responsibility on the community itself . . .

  You’re not really looking to fix the problem, just point blame away from yourselves when your system created and is responsible for the problem. I just hate that argument. The same Black people in those neighborhoods who are getting harassed by the police are scared of those individuals who happen to be of the same color who are doing crime in their neighborhood. They make it like, “Hey, that’s your brother doing the crime,” or, “That’s your cousin, why don’t you just tell him to stop?” As if we all know each other and hang out together or something. Everyone is scared of criminals, and to put it on the community as if they should do something about it, that’s not our job, that’s your job. That’s why we pay taxes, that’s why we have policemen.

  Etan: That’s a great point.

  Webber: One of the worst cases of demonizing the victim to me was Trayvon Martin. That’s why I hope when we have these discussions that the young kids really look into law, which really changes everything. But when you look at Trayvon Martin’s case in particular, he was targeted because of how he looked . . . He was targeted, assaulted, he protected himself, and once he protected himself, someone had the right to kill him. And the demoralizing and demonizing of the victim, we really have to all not fall emotionally for that and stick to what happened and how it happened. Just stick to the relevant facts only. We all have done something in our past somewhere that someone can throw into an argument in order to make the person look like a bad person.

  Why do they do that? Because it works. Now . . . when we talk about police brutality, we always recognize the brave job of what they are doing, and I respect that and honor that, but it’s still a service that is their job. Nobody is forcing them to do their job. And anytime you demonize the victim, anytime you demoralize an entire group of people . . . I don’t think you can do as good of a job, and major problems arise . . . I think it’s all based on fear, and that’s why they use the words that they use. That’s why they use the dog whistles that they use.

  Etan: I’ve not
iced that the media often finds a Black face to echo these sentiments. Does that frustrate you as much as it frustrates me?

  Webber: I can’t even tell you how frustrating it is to see that, and it happens so often, and yes, it’s purposely done. They want to only present one side of the argument. And the Black face, as you referred to, knows that, and in order to get the face time, they take that side of the argument. So yes, it infuriates me because I know what they are doing.

  Etan: In dealing with young people—and I want to be able to give young people hope in this situation—what would be your advice, not if but when they encounter the police?

  Webber: If I was talking with young Black boys, Latino boys, Native American boys specifically, anyone who is not white and couldn’t pass for white, I would tell them first and foremost, “Realize that you are viewed as Black. The world looks at you as Black. Society looks at you as Black. I don’t care if you’re mixed, if you’re Spanish, to them you’re Black. So you have to not only recognize that, but you have to fully understand the history of that, meaning you are going to more likely be treated unfairly by the system, and the system was not made for you to succeed.” I tell my nephews, I tell family members, “Just be aware that you’re Black.”

  And that doesn’t mean that you don’t look a man in his eyes. That means that when you are pulled over, you need to show the police officer respect because you are a respectful man anyway, and you deserve respect because they are servicing you . . . So when you assume that and you are respectful, I think it’s easier to detect when something is not right. Then you don’t have to go back and say, “Well, did I have an attitude, was it my fault? Did I exhibit defiance or create an issue?” So one, you should always be respectful. Two, make sure you always have your ID. Three, I think you should always turn your phone on record and sit it on the dashboard . . . Four, and I’ve done this before, I was stopped in DC when I was with the Wizards, this was years before you got there—

  Etan: No, I remember.

  Webber: Well, I was speeding, and I didn’t have my license. Let me say that first of all, I was wrong on both accounts, but I told him that the car wasn’t stolen and that’s when things went wrong, because I laughed in his face like, “The car was paid for in cash, why are you telling me that the car was stolen?” That’s a lie, just a bold-faced lie. And what I did was I had the old-school Mercedes-Benz that had the phone on the dashboard, so I called my lawyer and told him to tape this conversation. That helped me out tremendously down the road from a legal perspective. When you are aware, you know that the police are going to be believed before you. And so you need to be respectful, have your things in order, and know the law. Specifically in your state, and know your rights . . . So I would say really be aware. You have to be aware that people are dying out here for no reason. For reaching for their license in a glove box after the police told them to give them their license. I am thankful for the job that the good policemen do, but I’m more scared than ever to be a Black man in this country, and that’s after growing up in Detroit, where like I said, the present-day crime rate and murders in Chicago don’t surpass what was going on in Detroit in the eighties.

  Etan: I’ve heard you talk about how growing up, your father offered you a lot of advice and gave you “The Talk.”

  Webber: I thank him more and more every day now that I’m older, because I don’t know when I finally got it. My father was a disciplinarian. It was his way or the highway . . . I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, if I did not have my father at home, I don’t know what it would’ve been like . . . I needed that discipline. My father was eleven years old when his mom passed away and he was actually picking cotton on a plantation. A lot of people may hear these stories or read about them, but I grew up having a direct connection to slavery through my father, and he instilled in me hard work, and if you get knocked down or beaten down and you have to cry and you’re hurting, let’s cry and have that release, then get your behind up and get back to work.

  So I always wanted to be the man he was, and I always asked myself, Could I have made it through what he was able to make it through? . . . He would take me back in the summers when I was younger and show me . . . why their hands were calloused and bruised, and show me my great-aunt, who was less than a hundred pounds but had to pick a hundred pounds of cotton. So I grew up with an appreciation for what Black people went through, but even more what specifically my father went through. He may not have had the schooling or the education, but he is the wisest man I know. And my mother took a different route through education, so I definitely had a balance of the two, but my father really guided me in a way that was crucial for me . . . His whole thing was, “You gotta be a man,” and he made it fun to be a man and he made it challenging to be a man, and I honestly don’t know where I would be without him.

  Interview with Joakim Noah & Derrick Rose

  As previously discussed, one of the questions we consistently hear, whether we like it or not, is: What about Black-on-Black crime? I wanted to talk to Joakim Noah and Derrick Rose in particular about this topic. They both have been extremely vocal on different issues in the past. Derrick Rose was the first player to wear the I Can’t Breathe shirt after Eric Garner’s murder. He did it without hesitation and without knowing what the reaction was going to be. Joakim Noah elected to skip a New York Knicks team dinner with a group of army cadets that included a speech from a retired colonel, citing his stance against war and gun violence. Noah also said he felt “uncomfortable” that the Knicks were “conducting training camp for the third straight year at West Point, where the United States Military Academy is based.”

  Joakim Noah told the New York Post, “It’s hard for me . . . I have a lot of respect for the kids here fighting—but it’s hard for me to understand why we go to war and why kids have to kill kids all around the world . . . I have mixed feelings about being here. I’m very proud of this country. I love America. I don’t understand kids killing kids around the world.’’

  The Post further reported: “Noah said his decision to skip the dinner and speech was not intended as a form of protest. ‘It’s not my way of saying anything—I was not comfortable,’” Joakim explained. “Not surprisingly, the US Military Academy called the move ‘inappropriate.’”

  Joakim and Derrick have been involved in a lot of activism, but what I want to focus on here is how they have both been fighting against gun violence. It’s no secret that gun violence and gangbanging in the poor areas of Chicago are out of control. Donald Trump couldn’t stop mentioning this during the presidential debates, saying things such as, “Restore law and order,” when asked how he would improve the relationship between the Black community and the police. Everyone in the country knew exactly what that meant.

  As I was interviewing Joakim, I heard the passion in his voice, and how much it genuinely hurt him to see everything that was going on in Chicago. I asked him about Trump’s threat of martial law, and I asked him for his thoughts on what could be done to curtail the violence.

  I remember seeing a public service announcement he did in Chicago titled “Stand Up Chicago.’’ In it, Noah, Derrick Rose, and others explain what they stand for—the city, the youth, peace, and reducing violence.

  Noah and Derrick have both been committed to addressing the violence that has been afflicting the city of Chicago for far too long. I was glad they agreed to sit down with me and address their willingness to speak out and examine the roots of the violence, the systemic problems that feed into it.

  Etan: Derrick, you were one of the first people to wear the I Can’t Breathe shirts—you really started the whole thing. Tell me your reasons for wearing the shirt.

  Derrick Rose: At the time, I was really fed up. Being in Chicago and growing up in the neighborhoods I grew up in, and seeing everything that was going on in particular with the police, and the killings, and the violence, I just felt that I needed to say something. I am blessed to have this platform that I have playing in the NB
A, and I am able to really get a message out to a lot of people relatively easily, because the media and fans pay attention to every move that we make. When we say something or do something, it gets noticed and people pay attention, and I felt some light needed to be shined on this problem that was going on. And watching Eric Garner’s murder over and over again, seeing the police choke him to death over and over again, and hearing him saying over and over again that he couldn’t breathe, and all of the police standing around watching him be choked to death and nobody had the decency to stop it and say, “That’s enough, he’s down, he’s not resisting, you’re going to kill him,” I just felt something needed to be said about that because that was just not okay and it was not right.

  Etan: That was a really strong statement to make, stepping out there by yourself at the time and being the first one. Other players from all around the league joined you after that, but in the beginning, you were alone. Were you at all worried about the backlash that could come with that?

  Rose: I really didn’t care about the backlash at all—that was the last thing I was worried about. I called my friend and told him to get the shirt made, and I knew that in the NBA there was probably going to be some type of a fine involved, because usually the first thing they go for is your money, and I knew it was a violation of the pregame team-issued warm-ups with all the NBA logos and everything on it, but I didn’t care. This was bigger than a fine. I felt like I was speaking for millions of people who are suffering and who feel no hope. I mean, how could you feel hope after seeing on tape a crowd of policemen kill this man and choke him to death and nobody even feels any remorse about it? It didn’t even seem like it fazed them. Like he wasn’t even human. They would have had way more of a reaction if they would’ve seen a dog being killed than this human being. So yeah, the last thing I was worried about was a fine or some criticism.