George Floyd Protests in Indianapolis

I haven’t been much able to participate in protests over the police killing of George Floyd because of my second shift job, and also, because of the curfew imposed by the City of Indianapolis.  But I was finally able to participate in one on Sunday, June 7, a nonviolent symbolic action at the City-County Building at noon, where we 25-30 participants, all observing social distancing, knelt for nine minutes of silence, the amount of time George Floyd’s neck was held under the knee of the Minneapolis cop, causing him to asphyxiate and die.  My friend and fellow trade unionist John Jett (he of IATSE, the stagehands’ union; I’m in the UFCW) invited me, and I was glad to join.  And, of course, glad I did.  The organizer of the event, a black man, spoke briefly afterwards, and pointedly noted that Floyd’s killing wasn’t just a racial thing, it was a class thing, because being mistreated by the police happened also to poor whites considered criminals.  (I've since found out he's Chris Shelton of the Indiana AFL-CIO, and now a Facebook Friend of mine.)  When he finished, I spoke to this point briefly, “Being treated professionally and respectfully by the police is not a ‘privilege,’ it’s a right!” and received applause for it from the multiracial crowd.   

As I had walked along Delaware St. to the City-County Building from my car and back, I noticed the boarded-up windows that had been shattered by earlier protests, and felt the poetic justice involved in just whom got trashed.  For one, the windows and doors of the bail bond parasites had been trashed, as had been the front of the Wheeler “Rescue” Mission, where homeless, desperate men could “get” a cheap meal and a bed for one night only, after standing in line for hours, by being “offered salvation” through mandatory attendance at a fundamentalist Protestant fire-and-brimstone religious service and sermon.  Two most deserving targets, in my opinion!

In sharp contrast to many other cities and states, the Indianapolis police, the Indianapolis Democratic Mayor Joe Hogsett’s office, and the office of Indiana Republican Governor Eric Holcomb have been quite cool toward the unfolding protests.  While I hadn’t been able to attend other protests, I did receive information on them from friends and media.  At one such, when the police asked the crowd to disperse because of curfew, and the crowd protested it wanted to march on the Governor’s mansion, a Deputy Mayor addressed the crowd, and the demonstrators and police hugged afterward and marched off to the Governor’s house.  Only one ugly police incident here on the part of the police has been documented:  A May 31, 2020 incident in downtown Indianapolis where two women were hit on the legs by police batons, evidently for walking while curfew was called.  This was reported by the Washington Post, the incident filmed by a cameraman with local WISH TV, and can be seen here: (https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/06/05/indianapolis-police-arrest/)  The officers involved were removed from beat duty, and both Mayor Hogsett and the Chief of Police said the matter would be investigated.  Donald Trump has decidedly not attacked Indianapolis or Indiana for being allegedly “soft of protestors,” so we’ve been spared that; nor have the police here responded badly, aside from the above incident, as far as I can tell.  (I've since learned that lazy members of the Indianapolis police dispersed protestors at curfew time by unnecessarily tear-gassing them, which is now, thankfully, the cause of a lawsuit filed by the Indiana ACLU and others.)  Perhaps it’s because Indiana is a small state, with only about half the population of neighboring Ohio, Illinois and Michigan, and perhaps it’s also because Indianapolis is not considered a “major city” on par with Minneapolis, Seattle, and elsewhere that have drawn Trump’s wrath, but it is indeed a blessing when such does occur.  So, kudos to the police and the pols for having uncommon good sense in this time of travail, concern and fear.  And let us all remember our Constitutionally guaranteed right to “peaceably assemble,” which can be taken from us only if we don’t use it.