Whenever the police murder someone, they try to concoct a story, however implausible, that implicates the victim or the victim’s loved ones as the cause of the shooting.
Cops will routinely use the They Tried to Grab My Gun! contrivance, along with They Made a Sudden Move and They Made Furtive Movements.
For the murder of Aiyana Stanley-Jones, they used the first excuse.
The jury couldn’t convict. Even though the charge, itself, was a tap on the wrist.
And no one marched. And no one rioted. And our outrage was contained before it eventually dissipated.
Because so few of us even know her name.
Because no one marches or riots for black girls.
Because most people thought like the person who examined Aiyana’s lifeless body:
"You might say that the homicide of Aiyana is the natural conclusion to the disease from which she suffered," Schmidt told me.
"What disease was that?" I asked.
"The psychopathology of growing up in Detroit," he said. "Some people are doomed from birth because their environment is so toxic."
So America’s feeling is that the cop should be absolved because the real murderer is black pathology. Whiteness is always innocent and Blackness is always guilty.
The title of this article should be WHO Killed Aiyana Stanley-Jones—or better yet: We KNOW WHO Killed Aiyana Stanley-Jones.
But the truth dies first.
That’s how shit works in ‘Murrica.