Reflections on the life, death and legacy of George Floyd

It’s approaching six years since the death of George Floyd. Since then, there’s been much written and spoken about it. As someone who, along with thousands, if not millions of others worldwide, was viscerally shaken by the event, I want to reflect on where I now am, what I’ve learned that might serve us going forward, and where I feel it leaves us as a collective.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash 

What have I learned?

Media manipulation

I can’t say this is a new realisation, but I’ve become keenly aware of the power news outlets hold to influence our thought, perception and behaviour.  As none of us is physically present everywhere all at once, what alternative do we have but to trust that the information we’re fed via electronic and print media is, even if subject to bias, essentially true? Without access to alternative sources of information, news producers wield a tremendous amount of power. (This is now being spoken of in hushed, and not so hushed tones, with regard to forthcoming UFO/UAP disclosure narratives and the way they may misrepresent facts in order to maintain the divide and rule playbook – but that is another, if related, subject.)

I’ve learned that the circumstances of George Floyd’s death might not have been as cut and dried as we were all led to believe, that it might have been made into an event about ‘race’ when it might more accurately have been about poverty or opioid addiction, disadvantage and marginalisation.  I wonder if the media led us to focus on ‘race’ as mass protests about this were more palatable than mass outrage about the pandemic levels of deaths due to opioid use and addiction in the USA and Canada and elsewhere, and less destabilizing than a backlash against the huge profit-generating pharmaceutical companies.  I also wonder if this is what Jodi Keung, the mother of the first officer on the scene, Alex Keung, was alluding to in her interview with Alpha News on the fifth anniversary of Floyd’s death when she spoke about the “well-scripted narrative”.

To be willing to let go of stories I have an emotional connection to once new information comes to light

When George Floyd’s death occurred, I felt shock waves through my very being. I was so affected that I began writing blogs seeking to understand how such a thing could have happened at all let alone in broad daylight. This deep visceral response created an emotional imprint. While it wasn’t one I would have chosen, it became familiar and I became attached to it in some way, so when I heard that the story we were told was not, or might not have been, accurate, I dismissed it and enquired no further. Eventually, YouTube algorithms sent me The Glenn Show podcast. Although I was disappointed at the lack of empathy for George Floyd displayed by the hosts, they clearly considered there was more at play than met the eye, so I felt duty bound to find out more and watched the documentary ‘The Fall of Minneapolis’.

The film puts forward a compelling argument that we, the general public, were heavily manipulated into believing that this was an event about ‘race’ (although I still wonder had Floyd not been in a Black body if everything would have played out in the same way).  Having watched the film, viewed body camera footage and listened to audios of the police officers, including that of Alex Keung (racialised as Black and new to the job - only on his third full-time shift) who was the arresting officer speaking politely to George Floyd, I was struck by the initial humanity of the interaction; it was not at all what I had been led to believe. I came away with a much fuller picture of the complex sequence of events that unfolded that evening.  It was clear that George Floyd didn’t comply with multiple directives (prior to more experienced officer, Derek Chauvin, coming onto the scene) and that he was extremely agitated and distressed throughout the encounter - which of course would have put stress on his heart – heart problems having been a pre-existing condition. 

However, it also struck me that great pains were taken to document his historical criminal activities as if to minimise or even explain away the circumstances of his death. Yes, he was addicted to drugs and he had committed crimes as so many addicts do in desperation for their next fix; he was also a person who’d served time, but does his history explain why he died as he did? Emotion aside, it sheds some light on why he would have been so fearful and agitated and would likely explain why he would have been reluctant to comply with initial requests/commands, and why more firm action from officers might eventually have been deemed necessary. 

The autopsy determined that he died from cardiac arrest (part of a hypertension condition) exacerbated by high levels of fentanyl in his system, rather than by asphyxiation; nevertheless, all four officers received custodial sentences. It an impossible task, and neither is it my role, to attempt to pass judgment on the findings. I will say though that, to me, it defies common sense to conclude that the method of restraint applied to someone with a heart condition, and for that unprecedented length of time, would have no contributory effect. (And from what I understand the method of restraint was chest down, with the full weight of the knee on the neck (seen not just from by-stander videos but also from police body-cam footage), as opposed to applying a knee to the upper back/shoulder as the Maximal Restraint Technique is apparently taught.)

Where I am now

One of the things I continue to find so troubling is the dehumanizing manner of Floyd’s death along with what looked like complete indifference for his well-being. I accept that those who work within law enforcement get to see some of the worst aspects of human beings and many of them grow a thick skin for the sake of self-protection and self-preservation. But there is something deeply disturbing about the coarsening of the senses, the lack of regard for fellow humans that is so often on display - in news reports and in comment sections on social media for example.  What will become of us if we lose this precious ability to feel empathy for each other, to hold each other with regard? What kind of global or national society will we bring into being if our reactions and responses to each other are so lacking in basic humanity?

There has even been a sense conveyed by some of those documenting Floyd’s history that in some ways he brought the situation on himself through his life choices. And to this I say: Let’s have some compassion.

He didn’t come out of the womb addicted to fentanyl. What happened that set him on that path? The Compassion Prison Project, asks: Not “what did you do?” but “what happened to you”? How do I know what choices I would have made given his life circumstances? How do any of us know? Blaming the victim is a convenient way to avoid having to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions. Rather, we say: “I would never do that. I’m nothing like that. I’m a good person” while not realising that the harsh criticism, judgment and lack of compassion might not be considered qualities of “a good person”. 

His legacy

For me, the death of George Floyd and the manner in which it occurred became, has become, about more than one man. It became the moment when as a global community we declared that we have no appetite for domination and barbarity, that we are done with injustice and divide and rule.  It became the moment when we realized that there was and is a powerful collective longing for justice, fairness and community - not based on colour, but by virtue of the fact that we are human. Yes, tragically, there are still appalling atrocities being visited upon us as a (human) race, but the willingness to tolerate them is being overcome by the willingness to take a stand, to unite and to act on each other’s behalf. (This has been movingly demonstrated - curiously, again in Minnesota -  where ordinary people have taken action on behalf of their US citizen neighbours who are being detained and deported under ICE directives.)

I once heard someone say: “I don’t care whether or not it’s true that we are all inter-connected. What I care about is who we become and the world we create when we act as if it’s true.” 

And this isn’t to advocate for recklessness; we still have to be discerning about who we do and don’t interact with or choose to allow into our lives, but the underlying attitude that holds you as every bit as valuable as me can be felt as we go about our daily lives, and counts for more than we might realize – one of the themes I plan to explore in future blogs.

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The next series will explore what it means to be human and what power we have to bring into being the more beautiful world our hearts know is possible. As mentioned in Blog #5, it’s clear to me and to an increasing number, that the divide and rule strategy is designed to keep us in a state of perpetual antipathy towards each other while the 1% rake in the cash and exercise control. I now want to focus on what we can do to usher in a world that is more loving, more equitable and more filled with light and beauty.

1612 words - a 7 minute read