Over the
last few weeks, as someone who is #HighRiskCovid19, I have struggled with
whether or not to attend a protest. I fully support Black Lives Matter and I
truly believe that there are significant changes that need to happen in our
society. I also know that my struggle of whether or not to attend a protest is
part of my privilege.
Clearly, I
haven’t been the only one struggling with this:
Therefore,
I think it’s important to talk about other ways that we can “show up” without
having to be present in person at a protest. One way that I’m doing that is to
expose racism when and where I see it.
A friend
shared a post about vile, racist tweets that had been connected to the Chief of
Police of Shelby Township. I won’t post those here because they are highly
offensive, but if you Google any of this, you will be able to find them. When I
looked at the picture of who the tweets were being attributed to, before I even
saw the name, my heart sank. I know him. I’ve dealt with him. And I am,
unfortunately, not surprised.
How do I
know Robert Shelide? I won’t rehash what happened to my dad. You can search my
blog as I have frequently written about it. However, I had horrible
interactions with this man, who was the Deputy Chief of the Southfield Police
when my dad was missing and ultimately, was found dead.
I sent the
following letter to every member of the Shelby Township board, and a variety of
local and state officials and members of the media:
To Whom It May Concern:
In the flood of 2014, my dad went missing. My
mom attempted to report him missing and no police departments would take a
report. At the time, my parents lived in Southfield, but my dad worked in
Shelby/Clinton Township. The Southfield Police Department was particularly
cruel and insensitive, especially my interaction several months later with, at
the time, Deputy Chief Robert Shelide.
My grievances with the Southfield Police
Department have been aired, but by the time that we had an opportunity to sit
down with the Chief of Police, Mr. Shelide was no longer employed with the
Southfield Police Department, so they refused to address anything related to
him.
I had written a letter to the Southfield Police
Department outlining what had occurred with my dad and where I felt they had
failed in serving and protecting. I received a phone call from Mr. Shelide.
Amongst other things, he told me that the steps I was requesting wouldn’t have
been taken “for a family member of the mayor.” He also told me that my dad
could have been “at McDonald’s or in a hotel” and “that he didn’t warrant
departmental resources.” As you can imagine, this was shocking and devastating
to me. My dad, in fact, was not at “McDonald’s” or “in a hotel.” He was found
dead in his car the day after he went missing, not by the police, but by a
person that lived on the block where my dad's car was parked.
Totally unrelated to my experiences, it has come
to my attention via several social media posts shared by friends that have
identified abhorrent posts that Mr. Shelide, who I have never followed on
social media, has posted. These posts invoke violence against people of color.
At best, they are unequivocally racist in nature. At worst, they are criminal
and should not be acceptable coming from any human being, let alone a law
enforcement officer.
I randomly came across the social media posts,
and felt a sense of dread. Not only do I know who this person is, I have
experienced his lack of empathy and compassion firsthand. I have wanted to
write this letter for years, to make sure your community was aware of the kind
of person that your city had as its police chief. But I resisted the urge. But what
the last few days have taught me is that I have to use my privilege for good.
And my concern, more than for my dead father, is that if your Chief of Police
could speak to a grieving daughter that way, what else is he capable of? And
how many police departments in this state will pass him around, hoping that he
will magically change? If change is going to come, it has to start with the
people that have power. And you do. So the question is, how will you use your
power?
It is my sincere hope that by taking a long,
hard look at who leads the Shelby Township police, you will take a look at
yourselves. Would you be okay if the next George Floyd occurred in your city?
Forget about Neal Rott, of blessed memory. Think of all those who don’t have
the privilege I have to even be able to write this letter.
Black lives have always mattered, but apparently
they matter more to some than to others, and others should not include law
enforcement officers.
***
While just
hours after the story broke, he was put on “indefinite paid leave” and issued
an empty, thoughtless apology, it truly appears that the media is trying to
squash this story. It also appears that the board, afraid of a lawsuit, is
going to take their time in doing what needs to be done.
We cannot
let that happen.
It’s
simple. If the sentiments expressed by the Chief of Police truly due not
represent the views of Shelby Township, then they need to do what needs to be
done. Forget contracts and legal requirements. He has to go. He needs to be
fired. And he needs to be barred from working in law enforcement ever again.
Not one
person on the board or member of the police department has publicly spoken out
against this man. The “he does not represent our views” trope is callous in the
face of refusing to prove that by standing up and saying that his views are
disgusting and should not be tolerated. How can this man keep people safe when
he publicly vows to do the opposite?
Here is a
link to an online petition that is asking for this man to be fired from his job
as the Chief of Police of Shelby Township:
I am *not*
the author of the petition, but if you feel strongly about the changes that are
needed, it starts with this. It starts with exposing racism and forcing people
who glorify those feelings out.
Silence is
complicity. I believe that white people no longer have the right to remain
silent. When we encounter racism, we have to expose it and defend against it.
You may not feel comfortable writing a letter to the degree and tone of mine. You
can send form letters and emails and sign petitions. And you can do research. You
can look into how much money your city spends on the police versus how much
they spend on other things, like health. And you can let your local and state
officials know that we need to prioritize health, schools, and other social
services. For example, in 2017, Detroit spent $310,200,000 on the police, 30%
of the general fund budget, and $28,900,000 on health, 1.6% of the general fund
budget (This report outlines police spending in other cities, as well: Freedom to Thrive:
Reimagining Safety and Security in Our Communities).
It’s not
hard to see how we got to where we are, with a pandemic raging that is
disproportionately effecting black communities. We can’t talk about the police
without talking about health, and we can’t talk about any of this without
addressing the structural inequalities and systemic racism that exists in our
country.
I
certainly have more to do, but I hope that by exposing racism and speaking out
against it, I am taking the first step to becoming anti-racist.