Friday
Of the many memorable moments in the Derek Chauvin murder trial, one in particular stood out to me: Darnella Frazier, the 17-year-old who filmed George Floyd’s death, telling the court, “It’s been nights I stayed up apologizing and apologized to George Floyd for not doing more.”
Frazier wasn’t the only witness who felt guilty, even though her filming and their testimony was the most any of them could realistically have done, given that there were four policemen surrounding Floyd. They might find comfort in Lucille Clifton’s “poem with rhyme in it,” which addresses the issue of guilt.
I have come to realize that guilt is often a revolt against feeling powerless, and what could make us feel more powerless than not being able to stop someone from coldly and deliberately killing another before our very eyes? If we feel guilty for our inaction, it is because we tell ourselves there’s something we could have done. As bad as guilt feels, it’s better than acknowledging that we were, in fact, powerless.
In Clifton’s “poem with rhyme in it,” she describes how Blacks live in a world controlled by Whites, which pretty much describes the current imbalance of power between White cops and the Black populace. The Whites in this world live alienated existences, she tells us. While Clifton believes that we can sense things through our hands—she writes frequently of hands and once, when we were colleagues, took my hands in hers to sense the energy flow—she sees Whites having “cut off their own two hands”–which is a way of saying they are disconnected from life. They have created a toxic environment (think of our militarized police, our rampant gun culture, our runaway defense budget), essentially salting the ground.
And yet, despite this, African Americans often feel guilty for things that happen. Again, I can report that I witnessed Clifton feeling guilty for what happened to her children and to her community.
In this poem, however, she steps back and takes a larger view. “i have listened this long dark night/ to the stars,” she tells her fellow African Americans, and “they say it is not our fault.”
So Darnella Frazier, we thank you for courageously standing your ground and shooting the footage that led to Chauvin’s conviction and may result in major police reform in this country. You did more than enough.
And as for the death you witnessed—it was not your fault.
poem with rhyme in it
black people we live in the land
of ones who have cut off their own
two hands
and cannot pick up the strings
connecting them to their lives
who cannot touch whose things
have turned into planets more dangerous
than mars
but i have listened this long dark night
to the stars
black people and though the ground
be bitter as salt
they say it is not our fault
