Are the police meant to protect people? Or to fight them?
It’s getting harder to believe in the vindication of history.
When we see a white police officer kneeling on a black body, squeezing the breath of life out of that body, we are witnessing an act of worship.
Call their names. Tell their stories. Confess our role.
Jesmyn Ward’s novel is a descent into hell on earth. I couldn't put it down.
Impunity for Joe Arpaio makes good policing harder. So does access to military gear.
Kathryn Bigelow's film lays bare our assumptions about guilt and race.
Dyson’s sermon on racism is inspiring, but will it speak to those who need to hear it most?
Every win in our organization's history has come when a diverse group of Baltimoreans got out of their lanes and worked together.
We are confronting a reality that for some of us was just an abstraction: black and white communities perceive the police differently and are treated differently by them.
Like Simeon and Anna, I had a rough Advent.
For black Americans, the abuse of power by police is not an aberration. It’s a familiar pattern.
In the last six weeks police officers have killed at least five unarmed African American men: Eric Garner, John Crawford, Ezell Ford, Dante Parker, and Michael Brown. This does not include Kajieme Powell, who was carrying a steak knife when two officers gunned him down just a few miles away from the site of Brown’s death. As much as some commentators might want to dismiss the protests as the cynical work of “screamers” and “race hustlers,” there is no doubt that the unrest sprung in large part from a righteous indignation at this nation’s long and persistent record of state violence against black men.