The African-American proverb, “fix your face!” has burned my ears since childhood. Once said, no matter what wiseass, teenaged thought that was processing through my head, I would always try my hardest to make sure it didn’t show up on my face. I always failed. I’ve never played poker and I never will. I don’t see the point of it because there’s no way I could win a large pot before my opponents called my bluff. My thoughts and emotions, whether favorable or not, have a tendency of reluctantly showing up in my expression.
Unfortunately, the inner lives of Black people aren’t always rendered as legible. The second week into February, a Bronx native named Robert Williams was formally charged in a Bronx criminal court with 14 counts of attempted murder after shooting into a Bronx precinct and wounding two officers. Police Commissioner Dermot F. Shea called the incident a cowardly “premeditated assassination” attempt, and there went my face. I wanted to spit out another proverb commonly heard in my household: “mind your tongue.”
Because how we describe, or don’t describe, Black people who commit violent acts matters.
The New York Times article reporting on Williams’ case didn’t miss the details when it comes to his criminal history. Mr. Williams was first arrested on robbery charges in 1995, when he was 14. He was sent to Bare Hill Correctional Facility, released twice on parole, and then returned twice for violations. He finally completed his sentence in March 2001. A year later, he shot at a person, carjacked another to escape from the scene, and then wrecked the stolen car. Following that, he exchanged fire with the officers who were trying to capture him. He was serving an 18-year sentence for attempted murder when he was released in 2017.
But the Times did miss other important context, like that the shooting of the Bronx precinct happened shortly after the death of Williams’ child. Williams’ criminal history is tragic and even disturbing, but when dealing with someone who has been a part of the criminal justice system since they were 14, it is irresponsible not to acknowledge his mental health history in the way many other media outlets, including the New York Times, tends to do with other mass shooters.
To not acknowledge the mental health factors in Williams’ life is a reminder of how the law picks and chooses when mental health matters. Felons, especially Black ones, are treated like second class citizens by the media.
Even after serving time, they’re still denied basic rights. It goes far beyond being unable to vote. When you are a felon, you are not human, and therefore anything about your life that may have contributed to how you emotionally came to be is ignored by the state.
Expressing a new outlook on life and his choices, Williams told relatives he wanted to get to know his teenage son whose life he missed out on from being in prison. He was doing just that for a time, according to his grandmother. Unfortunately, the mending of his and his son’s relationship was soon cut short. 6 months after his release, Williams’ son accidentally shot and killed himself. Williams set up a shrine to his son at his bedside table and became depressed, turning to heavy hallucinogenic drugs to self-medicate.
I am not a healthcare professional, nor am I Williams’ conscience, but ignoring possibilities other than an evil act of premeditated murder ensures you cannot view him with the fullness he deserves—especially as he’s labeled a cop killer.
A Suicide by Cop is an encounter in which a suicidal person attempts to die by forcing a law enforcement officer to use lethal force. Factors found to influence someone’s intent to die of Suicide by Cop include: disruption of a relationship, critical family issues, suicide ideation, history of mental illness, substance abuse, past suicide attempts, involvement in a domestic dispute, refusal to surrender to law enforcement, and acute crisis. Robert Williams suffered from at least 5 out of the 9 factors.
Suicide by Cop is seperated into two categories. The first is when someone has committed a crime and is being pursued by the police and decides that they would rather die than be arrested. These people may not be suicidal, but may simply decide that life is not worth living if they are incarcerated.
The second version involves people who are already contemplating suicide and decide that provoking law enforcement into killing them is the best way to act on their desires. With every phone video or bit of body camera footage that goes viral every other day showing trigger happy officers unjustly shooting a Black person, I can imagine why Williams might choose this route. In America, it’s a guaranteed way to die.
According to the Police Executive Research Forum there are 5 different ways to recognize a Suicide by Cop incident. One of which is when the subject is not behaving like a criminal offender. For example, the subject does not attempt to leave the scene. Surveillance video from inside the precinct on the day of the shooting shows Williams shooting at several officers and civilian employees. After he ran out of bullets, he lay on the floor and slid his gun toward officers. The Police Commissioner had more to say on this:
“I will point out that this coward immediately lay down, but only after he ran out of bullets.”
This statement justifies the looming verdict that has not rang, but we can expect to come. Although unjust police shootings happen almost everyday in America, the sympathy citizens wish officers felt when they’ve taken a life of someone who was loved is not there. At the same time, this same sympathy is always expected from citizens when a police officer falls.
In the U.S., Black Americans are 2.5 times more likely to be killed by police than white Americans. Over their life course, about 1 in every 1,000 Black men can expect to be killed by police. When I think of the harrowing tragedies of unarmed or legally carrying citizens who have died by the gun of a police officer (Philando Castile comes to mind immediately), I am in genuine disbelief that Robert Williams didn’t die in the same way.
Language has the power to turn the stories of others into a narrative that’s befitting or satisfying to the storyteller. In the mainstream media, this language isn’t always as easy to navigate as my emotionally driven face. This leads audiences to sway their emotions and opinions to match that of the storyteller with the harmful bias.
Not accounting for the full lives of Black people is an even more dire offense when that storyteller is positioned as the authoritaty, because this causes people to not fact check or investigate answers for themselves. After all, why would this person who is supposed to protect us be misleading?
I’m not condoning Suicide by Cop, but I am condemning what sounds like the good ole boy language that prevents us from reckoning with why it happens. I can’t ignore that he has been a child of an unjust system his whole life. I can’t ignore that he tragically lost his own child almost as soon as he got out of prison. I can’t ignore his grandmother who told about Williams’ alarming drug use and downward mental spiral after he lost his son.
A cop with biases is dangerous to the community. If you are more passionate for them than for us all, mind your tongue.
Then I started doing research on Suicide By Cop. I have heard of it, but I had never looked it up or done research . This was a great, informative , read. The same can be said about Good Ole Boys and police. I’ve heard my grandmother use the term , but again, it was just something I was aware of.
Shauntionne Mosley is originally from Louisville, KY. When not writing in or re-reading 1 of many diaries (36 and counting), you can find her eating, daydreaming, or talking to herself. Other published works can be found at www.thedawnlouise.com . Follow her on Instagram @sounditout_ or on Twitter @WhoaDere_Shaun.
