Four years ago today, I was with my family on vacation when news reached us that a Black man in St. Paul had been killed by police. We quickly learned his name was Philando Castile, a man we knew as Mr. Phil, a beloved staff member at my son's school.
I have only one clear memory of an interaction with Mr. Phil before this death, and that was at some all-school gathering where he handed me a cookie and asked me to try it. I think he said it was a new recipe they were working on for the cafeteria.
After his death, we quickly came to know exactly how precious he was to so many kids and families at our school. His absence remains heartbreaking.
#PhilandoCastile
#PhilandoCastile
I think it's also important to recall that a few days after Mr. Phil's murder, someone took the time to seek out the emails of people on the school's PTO (I was secretary at the time) in order to send email defaming Mr. Phil. I still have the one I received.
The reflexive desire of white people to justify and obfuscate violence against Black lives in America is pervasive, and since Mr. Phil's murder, that reflex now manifests unchecked from the White House.
Mr. Phil's death—like so many before and since—and our choices in the aftermaths define us as a nation. At present, we are country that tolerates the regular slaughter of Black people, as we have done since our founding. That's it.
The president may rant about schools teaching kids to hate America, but the single most important lesson about America my son learned in school was taught by a cop who put seven bullets in the man who gave him milk and cookies in the lunch room.
And of course the lesson was reinforced a year later when that cop was acquitted of all charges. #PhilandoCastile
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