What The Exonerated 5 teaches on "Wilin'"
"It makes you realize how far we have to go." Caleel Harris couldn't have said it better when he reminisced on the overall lessons he learned from playing the role of Antron McCray, one of the five wrongfully convicted men in the case of the "Central Park Jogger." We - we as a people, we as a community, we as a population of African-Americans, we as delighters in justice, and of course, we as citizens of this republic - have very far to go before justice for all can become a reality. In the case at hand, barely teenage boys were ensnared in a gnarly, pre-determined conspiracy that coerced their false testimonies under varying but consistent ranges of pressure. The testimonies, de-contextualized, isolated, and chopped up by the detective squad, and later presented as evidence in court, were the main source of evidence against the boys; but the excruciating details of how this evidence was illegally ascertained is demystified in this series. The conviction, in the mind of the court, was a foregone conclusion, regardless of the brilliance of the defense.
The film highlights how a purposely disjointed, fragmented, and splintered community pits innocent lives against one another in an effort to control them. Directed and written by virtuoso Ava DuVernay, When They See Us, is careful to present the distinctions in cultural identity. It also comments on our own preconceptions regarding how "wilin'" can be construed, typified, and received. There is a danger to "wilin,'" or buggin out with your crew in a way that can be considered aggressive, or something else depending on the who and where of your crew and location, and there is more of a danger now that any group of black people in a crew can be assumed to be "wilin." Every crew wants to run, skip, and scream; that's healthy. But assaulting others, confrontations, and the extra can be conceived to be predatory, ultra-animalistic, and miscegenistic. But even more dangerous, is the stereotype of "wilin," something every crew does at one point or another; blacks are always perceived to be wilin, because we're supposedly uncivilized, riotous, and on the edge. But as a black man who has been pursued by the law, I now hold myself to a higher standard and that way even when I'm perceived to be wilin', I'm still in a healthy, if unpredictable range. That hasn't helped with my defense although it's satisfying to know I didn't go as hard as I could've when I allegedly "assaulted" that person. With those preconceptions of what I'm doing even if I am not resisting, it looks like I'm resisting if I raise my considerable voice or twist out of a cop's hold just because I do not let anyone pin me. How far do we have to go? Well, "nobody wants to stand in front of a judge" (RIP Nipsey). So in order to avoid unjust judgment, we have to be far from the scene of the crime, 'behave', and keep our mouths shut in front of detectives till the cavalry arrives. NAACP should publish a protocol and procedure for what to do if our youth is approached by the cops; this has to be standardized in our community, and our defense game needs to improve. Maybe if some of our more corporate-minded black legal minds were involved with criminal defense proceedings, we would have a steadier hand at proving reasonable doubt. The fact remains, when groupthink takes over, you lose yourself, and lose your alibi. Don't let it change your good nature and you'll maintain your own boundaries.
"It makes you realize how far we have to go." Caleel Harris couldn't have said it better when he reminisced on the overall lessons he learned from playing the role of Antron McCray, one of the five wrongfully convicted men in the case of the "Central Park Jogger." We - we as a people, we as a community, we as a population of African-Americans, we as delighters in justice, and of course, we as citizens of this republic - have very far to go before justice for all can become a reality. In the case at hand, barely teenage boys were ensnared in a gnarly, pre-determined conspiracy that coerced their false testimonies under varying but consistent ranges of pressure. The testimonies, de-contextualized, isolated, and chopped up by the detective squad, and later presented as evidence in court, were the main source of evidence against the boys; but the excruciating details of how this evidence was illegally ascertained is demystified in this series. The conviction, in the mind of the court, was a foregone conclusion, regardless of the brilliance of the defense.
The film highlights how a purposely disjointed, fragmented, and splintered community pits innocent lives against one another in an effort to control them. Directed and written by virtuoso Ava DuVernay, When They See Us, is careful to present the distinctions in cultural identity. It also comments on our own preconceptions regarding how "wilin'" can be construed, typified, and received. There is a danger to "wilin,'" or buggin out with your crew in a way that can be considered aggressive, or something else depending on the who and where of your crew and location, and there is more of a danger now that any group of black people in a crew can be assumed to be "wilin." Every crew wants to run, skip, and scream; that's healthy. But assaulting others, confrontations, and the extra can be conceived to be predatory, ultra-animalistic, and miscegenistic. But even more dangerous, is the stereotype of "wilin," something every crew does at one point or another; blacks are always perceived to be wilin, because we're supposedly uncivilized, riotous, and on the edge. But as a black man who has been pursued by the law, I now hold myself to a higher standard and that way even when I'm perceived to be wilin', I'm still in a healthy, if unpredictable range. That hasn't helped with my defense although it's satisfying to know I didn't go as hard as I could've when I allegedly "assaulted" that person. With those preconceptions of what I'm doing even if I am not resisting, it looks like I'm resisting if I raise my considerable voice or twist out of a cop's hold just because I do not let anyone pin me. How far do we have to go? Well, "nobody wants to stand in front of a judge" (RIP Nipsey). So in order to avoid unjust judgment, we have to be far from the scene of the crime, 'behave', and keep our mouths shut in front of detectives till the cavalry arrives. NAACP should publish a protocol and procedure for what to do if our youth is approached by the cops; this has to be standardized in our community, and our defense game needs to improve. Maybe if some of our more corporate-minded black legal minds were involved with criminal defense proceedings, we would have a steadier hand at proving reasonable doubt. The fact remains, when groupthink takes over, you lose yourself, and lose your alibi. Don't let it change your good nature and you'll maintain your own boundaries.
Comments
Post a Comment