In mid-August, a Florida State University Sophomore, Austin Harrouff, was found chewing on a face belonging to one of the two people he had just murdered. The college student did not know the couple he murdered. They had been sitting on a couch in their open garage when he passed through their neighborhood after leaving in the middle of dinner with his family, reportedly frustrated. The student was suspected to be on Flakka, also known as “powdered psychosis,” and had a history of steroid use. He was detained by a team of police officers only after being stunned by a Taser multiple times and bitten by police dogs.
The first question that came to my mind after reading the Washington Post’s article was asked by many readers before me: Why was he not shot?
My initial assumption was that Harrouff, unlike so many other victims of recent police shootings, was white.
While Harrouff’s situation could be paralleled with a number of other similar situations where culprits were shot, rather than detained, I thought specifically of Feras Morad.
He and I competed in the same speech and debate league in high school. When an old friend told me about Morad’s fatal shooting, I was horrified.
Morad was at a party in Long Beach, California, when he jumped out of a second story window while on mushrooms. The police were called to provide medical aid, as Morad had injured himself in the fall. They were warned that he was unarmed, but was having a bad reaction to the drugs. When an officer arrived on the scene, he confronted Morad without backup. The LA Times reported that Morad advanced toward the officer after being told to stop. He and the officer had a physical struggle and Morad was tased as well as struck with a flashlight. Morad allegedly advanced again, and the officer shot.
When I read the article about Austin Harrouff, I thought about Morad, and I sat down to write a column about the tremendous injustice behind police brutality and racially-driven incidences. I started doing research, but the more I researched Morad’s shooting, the more confused I felt about my stance. Morad was injured, but he was also on a powerful hallucinogenic drug. He was seeking medical aid, but acting aggressively and fought with a police officer. The officer tased him and used physical force, neither of which worked. That’s when the officer shot. Had there been two or three other officers, it’s likely he would’ve been subdued, arrested and taken to a hospital.
It was unfair that Morad, who was unarmed and injured, was shot and Harrouff was not. But at the end of my search, I had to admit that my original assumption had been wrong: Morad was killed in the self-defense of a police officer who made the mistake of trying to handle the situation alone, not because he wasn’t white. I cannot claim to know why Austin Harrouff was not shot. Maybe it was because of the color of his skin, maybe because the officers felt more capable of detaining Harrouff because they outnumbered him. What I do know is that I blame the officer who shot Morad for not waiting for backup, I blame him for knowing Morad was unarmed and shooting anyway, but I do not blame him for shooting Morad because he was Middle Eastern.
The idea that racial prejudices have a tremendous influence upon the legal system of the United States is one that cannot be denied. Alternatively, it would be inappropriate to take that social phenomenon and, from it, come to the conclusion that all acts of violence committed by police officers are racially driven.
While I’d like to look at every police shooting and say, “That’s an example of police brutality,” I can’t. I have no idea what it’s like to be a police officer. I have never experienced the same kinds of stressors or anxieties law enforcement officials have felt. Conversely, I’ve also never known what it feels like to be a public citizen who lives in fear of the police.
When individuals limit their perspectives of the world, even unintentionally, they are accepting that the world is black and white — that we need one extreme or the other. It’s not only about racial prejudices, but also about gender, age, sexual identity, socioeconomic status, profession and so much more.
While college students may not yet have the authority, the experience or the resources to make a large-scale social impact, we can question our natural assumptions and identify these prejudices and we can ask ourselves: What can we do on an individual level to stop perpetuating these prejudices?
Corrin Bond
can be reached at
Kelli
That was very well spoken. And I also don't know what it is like to be a police officer or live in fear of police officers. But I do believe these incidents really need to be heard on a case by case basis. There is a lot in the media about police shootings, but when you look, there are just as many unarmed white people also getting shot. But if they're unarmed, does that automatically make them safe? Are they "unarmed" if they're in a car? I have to say that regardless, if I were in fear for my safety - whether they're armed or not - being charged at or otherwise physically threatened, I can't say I wouldnt shoot. Maybe I wouldn't. None of us know what we would do. And from what I understand, Austin wasn't shot because a) they weren't sure if the victim was alive and didn't want to shoot him, and b) he seemed completely unaware the police were there and was not threatening them in any way. It had nothing to do with his race. Again - a different scenario, a different case. Anyways - sorry so long, just felt the need.