Author’s note: Two years ago, five years after Mike Brown’s death in Ferguson, I originally shared this article. Although it has been seven years now, I still remember that day—and I was just a bystander nearby. Back in 2014, when we first put together a radio documentary on this subject, I hope we can see some positive changes from that tragic encounter. Unfortunately, this does not seem to be the case at this point.
On August 9, 2014, 18-year-old Michael Brown was shot and killed by Ferguson Police Officer Darren Wilson. Today, five years later, people can still feel the impact of the shooting and its consequences. Since January of that year, I have been hosting the “Q With A View” podcast on FTRRadio. Considering the approach of the shooting and the shock wave it sent through my community, I reported this story in detail. In the end, the director of the newspaper turned into a radio documentary/special program that we aired in December 2014. The following is an article I wrote at the time (minimum update), and a link related to the special program. This is a labor of love-a profound impact on me. I hope you can listen to:
“Where were you when…?” Our special program that first aired on FTRRadio in December 2014 started with this question. Four and a half months ago, when news of the Michael Brown shooting came out, I was coming back from a typical Saturday afternoon at the football field, and I had no idea that this would be one of them. Those ones time. It is always disturbing to hear the death of a young man, but sadly, this situation is not uncommon, and it seems to be one of those static moments of time fixed in people’s memory like the historical North Star. Even the fact that Brown’s death was caused by the police did not immediately signal to me that we will still talk about it towards the end of 2014-let alone five years later. I didn’t foresee it at the time. The Beixian community I always thought was just an older, blue-collar, and ethnically diverse suburb. It would soon become a sociological Rorschach with different meanings to everyone, and a self-owned The label of life.
When the vigil the next day was replaced by protests, followed by robberies and riots, I looked at the destructive force I had witnessed and shook my head in disbelief. I recognized the tire shop with smashed windows; the parking lot where several local news broadcasters were reporting. Ferguson is not my hometown, but it is an integral part of the structure of St. Louis, very close to home, and seeing the violence and chaos breaking out in the streets makes me uneasy. This is something most news reports don’t—not afraid of me. My own safety, but sad for my community.
With the passage of time and the unfolding of competing narratives, it is tempting to choose “one side”.Sometimes, as new evidence is exposed and emotionally persuasive arguments are discussed, it is difficult not to do so, but I keep reminding myself-I am not there, I am not knowledge What happened.Just like someone who has never been to St. Louis or Ferguson knowledge Our community. Earlier, when I saw Ferguson being called “Selma”, I was very angry. But then, I also had to admit that there were some problems and tensions, which I used to protect to some extent. I started to get closer and listen longer.
When I heard a rapper named Daywalker contact the host Jamie Allman on the morning (radio) show, it was not only his experience as a protester, but also his hopes and The vision that Ferguson can be an opportunity for reconstruction, not just a tragedy, I am very interested. On a whim, I contacted Jamie and asked if he would let me get in touch with Daywalker-I thought it might be interesting to have him appear as a guest on my show. Jamie did this very politely, and soon, the initial one-off interview became a regular segment of my show, with Daywalker as our “Northern District Correspondent”.
I quickly learned that Daywalker is not only full of energy, but also full of creativity. When he suggested that we sit down with his rabbi Susan Talve and interview her about her role as a priest involved in the protest, I was not sure. I know it will be fun to talk to her, but I’m not sure how we can incorporate it into the show — even more so when my expected 15 or 20 minute interview becomes 45 minutes. It suddenly occurred to me that we might have to go in a slightly different direction.
When Daywalker followed up on our suggestion of talking with St. Louis County Police Department spokesperson Brian Schellman (Brian Schellman), the idea of Ferguson’s independent special began to take shape. Finally, we had a conversation with the sergeant. Sherman and another police officer from the North County Police Department. We also met with Jamie Allman to find out what he thought of the media coverage of Ferguson. Then, I also took this opportunity to interview Daywalker himself-after all, he lives in the community, and it was his passion that made us embark on this journey. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but all of our guests were willing to talk to us and it was so open, which surprised me. I think we ended some very frank and fascinating discussions, rather than canned, cautious responses.
In my opinion, my co-host Jason Dibler put them together and incorporated some of Daywalker’s music, which is simply amazing. Finally, I believe we have managed to conduct a very honest and convincing review of Ferguson and what it means to protesters, police, media members and the community.
Personally, it taught me that each of us has a story. If you give them a chance, most people will share their stories with you. Sometimes, just ask one or two questions. Sometimes all it takes is to really look at another person and recognize that they are an individual, an important person.
Since we finished the interview, Ferguson’s story—and the larger story of the police, the communities they serve, and the entire race relationship—continues to unfold. From the failure to prosecute in the Eric Garner case to the evolution of a demonstration into a riot, to the assassination of Ramos and Officer Liu, Ferguson seems to have become a thread in the ever-disintegrating social structure. This is why the question “Where are we going from here?” It seems to be the right way to close the special program.
Where are we going, really? I can’t say that I know for sure, but I think I have an idea: I believe that it starts by remembering our humanity.
