Faith and Science

It’s a bit odd how religious persons say things like “Science is for understanding the natural world, faith is for understanding the supernatural or spiritual world” as if these two methods of learning what is real are equally valid. They clearly are not.

“Science” basically means “testing.” You formulate a theory, devise a way to test it, and judge the results to see what’s true about the natural world. Now, it is true that some theories can’t be tested or haven’t been tested and are inappropriately presented as fact or likely to be fact. It’s also true that sometimes science is wrong — tests are flawed, good tests yield inaccurate results due to unexpected phenomena, or results are misjudged or misinterpreted. Yet over time, science grows more accurate. Tests are repeated over years, decades, and centuries, giving us further confidence in findings. New individuals administer such tests, weeding out biases. New tests are designed, looking at long-studied phenomena from different angles and in new ways. In these ways, 1) the ability to actually test ideas and 2) improved understanding over time, science helps us know what’s true.

Faith has neither of these things. First, it might be noted that when you hear the statement in the first paragraph, the speaker is typically talking about one faith, his or her own. Christian faith helps you understand the spiritual world, the true spiritual world. Hinduism, Scientology, Islam, and Buddhism won’t help you know the supernatural world, those are of course all false religions. In any case, we’ll assume a more open-minded stance, because some do believe that there is truth in all faiths, that all roads lead to Rome.

Where science is an ever-growing body of knowledge based on testing over time and into the modern age, faiths typically present more or less fixed bodies of ideas based on writings from comparatively primitive ancient cultures — desert tribes from the Middle East, for example, in the case of Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. Such writings describe higher powers, afterlives, the meaning of life, and so on. Ideas, supposed knowledge, of the supernatural world. Unfortunately, there is no way to test to see if any of these notions are true. The ideas could easily be man-made fictions. You may believe your Hindu or Christian or Islamic faith helps you know and understand the spiritual world, but, to put it bluntly, that spiritual world may not exist. There is no test to run to find out. (And no, Jesus being resurrected is not a “test,” nor are miracles, answered prayers, or feeling God speaking to you. The obvious problem with this poor counterargument is that these things cannot be tested for validity either. They could easily be human fictions and imaginings as well, as explained in detail elsewhere. Think about it. If someone doubts photosynthesis, you can teach him how to test to see if photosynthesis is real; there is no test you can use to show him a god or goddess is actually speaking to you, that it isn’t just in your head. “Try faith yourself, you’ll see the proof, believing is seeing” is the best a believer can say, possibly just drawing the fellow into human fictions and imaginings as well — there is no way to test to know otherwise.) This is in stark contrast to science; we can have confidence that the natural world exists, and we are able to put ideas to the test to actually see what’s true or false, or most likely to be so.

Linked with the lack of “knowledge” verification or falsifiability, of course, is simply the fact that ideas about the spiritual world cannot grow more accurate over time. Ancient scriptures aren’t typically added to. (In modern times, at least.) Texts are of course reinterpreted, gods are reimagined, ways the faithful think they should live change. For most American Christians for a long time, God was fine with the enslavement of blacks and the bible was used to justify it, without difficulty given what’s in it. Today things are quite different. Religions may change as societies do, and the faithful may feel they gain more knowledge by studying the scriptures more deeply, but no one will ever discover that we only spend 1,000 years in heaven, not eternity. Christianity won’t change when someone announces, after much research, that God has a couple wives up in heaven. Newly discovered ancient writings won’t become holy scripture. As stated, it’s all a fairly fixed set of ideas about the supernatural realm. The immutable nature of religious “knowledge” is of course celebrated by the faithful — everything we need to know about the spiritual world was written thousands of years ago, we don’t need more than what God gave us or any improved accuracy, everything’s accurate and must be preserved. (This is in contrast to scientists, who can make history, really make names for themselves, by disproving long-held scientific theories; there’s a personal incentive not to preserve doctrine but to blow it up.) But the supposed knowledge and its assumed accuracy are untestable and could easily be false, and there’s no process of gaining more knowledge or improving accuracy over time to really hammer out if these things are false or true. Imagine if science was like this — no way to know if germ theory is correct, no centuries spent gaining more information and developing better and better medicines. In its ability to test ideas and improve understanding as time goes on, science, unlike faith, is an actual method of learning what is real. (All this should not be surprising, given that “faith” is often defined, by believers and nonbelievers alike, as “belief without proof.”)

In sum, science is a useful tool for gaining objective knowledge about the natural world. Faith is simply hoped to be a tool for gaining what could easily be imagined knowledge about an imagined spiritual realm. These things are hardly the same.

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Merit Pay

“Too many supporters of my party have resisted the idea of rewarding excellence in teaching with extra pay, even though we know it can make a difference in the classroom,” President Barack Obama said in March 2009. The statement foreshadowed the appearance of teacher merit pay in Obama’s “Race to the Top” education initiative, which grants federal funds to top performing schools. Performance, of course, is based on standardized testing, and in the flawed Race to the Top, so are teacher salaries. Teacher pay could rise and fall with student test scores.

Rhetoric concerning higher teacher salaries is a good thing. Proponents of merit pay say meager teacher salaries are an injustice, and such a pay system is needed to alleviate the nation’s teacher shortage. However, is linking pay to test scores the best way to “reward excellence”? Do we know, without question, it “can make a difference in the classroom”? The answers, respectively, are no and no. Merit pay is an inefficient and potentially counterproductive way to improve education in American public schools. It fails to motivate teachers to better themselves or remain in the profession, it encourages unhealthy teacher competition and dishonest conduct, and it does not serve well certain groups, like special education students.

Educator Alfie Kohn, author of the brilliant Punished by Rewards, wrote an article in 2003 entitled “The Folly of Merit Pay.” He writes, “No controlled scientific study has ever found a long-term enhancement of the quality of work as a result of any incentive system.” Merit pay simply does not work. It has been implemented here and there for decades, but is always abandoned. A good teacher is intrinsically motivated: he teaches because he enjoys it. She teaches because it betters society. He teaches because it is personally fulfilling. Advocates of merit pay ignore such motivation, but Kohn declares, “Researchers have demonstrated repeatedly that the use of such extrinsic inducements often reduces intrinsic motivation. The more that people are rewarded, the more they tend to lose interest in whatever they had to do to get the reward.” Extra cash sounds great, but it is destructive to the inner passions of quality teachers.

Teachers generally rank salaries below too much standardization and unfavorable accountability on their lists of grievances (Kohn, 2003). Educators leave the profession because they are being choked by federal standards and control, and politicians believe linking pay to such problems is a viable solution? Professionals also generally oppose merit pay, disliking its competitive nature. Professor and historian Diane Ravitch writes an incentive “gets everyone thinking about what is good for himself or herself and leads to forgetting about the goals of the organization. It incentivizes short-term thinking and discourages long-term thinking” (Strauss, 2011). Teaching students should not be a game, with big prizes for the winners.

Further, at issue is the distorted view of students performance pay perpetuates. Bill Raabe of the National Education Association says, “We all must be wary of any system that creates a climate where students are viewed as part of the pay equation, rather than young people who deserve a high quality education” (Rosales, 2009). In the current environment of high-stakes tests (which do not really evaluate the quality of teaching at all), merit pay is just another way to encourage educators to “teach to the test,” or worse: cheating. The nation has already seen public school teachers under so much pressure they resort to modifying their students’ scores in order to save their salaries or their jobs.

It is clear that merit pay does not serve young learners, but this is especially true in the case of special education students. The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) requires states that accept federal funding to provide individual educational services to all children with disabilities. While the preeminence of “inclusion” of SPED children in regular classrooms is appropriate, the students are also included in the accountability statues of No Child Left Behind. SPED students are required to meet “adequate yearly progress” (AYP) standards based on high-stakes tests in reading, math, and science, like other students. While some youths with “significant cognitive disabilities” (undefined by federal law) can take alternate assessments, there is a cap on how many students can do so (Yell, Katsiyannas, & Shiner, 2006, p. 35-36). Most special education students must be included in standardized tests.

The abilities and the needs of special education students are too diverse to be put in the box that is a standardized test. SPED students are essentially being asked to perform at their chronological grade level, and for some students that is simply not possible. How does that fit in with a Free Appropriate Public Education, the education program the IDEA guarantees, that focuses on “individualized” plans for the “unique needs” of the student? It does not. Progress is individual, not standardized. Further, linking teacher pay to this unreasonable accountability only makes matters worse. Performance pay will likely punish special education instructors. Each year, SPED students may make steady progress (be it academic, cognitive, social, emotional, etc.), but teachers will see their salaries stagnate or slashed because such gains do not meet federal or state benchmarks. Such an uphill battle will discourage men and women from entering the special education field, meaning fewer quality instructors to serve students with disabilities.

When a school defines the quality of teaching by how well students perform on one test once a year, everyone loses. When pay is in the equation, it’s worse. Obama deserves credit for beginning to phase out NCLB, but merit pay is no way to make public schools more effective. If politicians want to pay good teachers better and weed out poor teachers, their efforts would be better directed at raising salaries across the board and reforming tenure.

For more from the author, subscribe and follow or read his books.

References

Kohn, A. (2003). The Folly of Merit Pay. Retrieved February 19, 2012 from https://www.alfiekohn.org/article/folly-merit-pay/.

Rosales, J. (2009). Pay Based on Test Scores? Retrieved February 19, 2012 from http://www.nea.org/home/36780.html.

Strauss, V. (2011). Ravitch: Why Merit Pay for Teachers Doesn’t Work. Retrieved February 19, 2012 from http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/answer-sheet/post/ravitch-why-merit-pay-for-teachers-doesnt-work/2011/03/29/AFn5w9yB_blog.html.

Yell, M. L., Katsiyannas, A., Shiner, J. G. (2006). The No Child Left Behind Act, Adequate Yearly Progress, and Students with Disabilities. Teaching Exceptional Children, 38 (4), 32-39.

Should We Talk About How Trauma Affects Police Behavior?

In the discussion of police brutality, generally speaking, one camp calls for sweeping, radical, even terminal changes to policing in order to end beatings and killings of civilians, while the other camp stresses that police officers have extremely dangerous, high-stress jobs and, while mistakes do occur at times, certain changes will only make things more dangerous for cops and for the public at large. There’s some talking past each other here, but perhaps one of the more significant things that is missed or simply isn’t much discussed is how these ideas are connected: of course people who go through trauma might be more likely to snap and murder someone for no reason at all.

A couple clarifications here. First, many on the Left will have little sympathy for the police no matter how traumatized someone might be by seeing dead bodies, blood and brains splattered about, raped children, and beaten wives, or by being shot at or otherwise attacked. After all, individuals who join police forces do so by choice, participate (whether aware of it or not) in an oppressive system that ensures the constant harassment and mistreatment of people of color, and so on. For some of my comrades, talking about how officer trauma might contribute to police brutality would be a major faux pas, offering excuses or a sympathetic ear to the other side in a rather uncomfortable way. Yet if police trauma does exist, and if it does contribute in some way to police brutality, it makes sense to think about it, discuss it, and figure out what to do about it. Sympathy isn’t required. Second, it should be clarified that acknowledging trauma as a possible cause of police violence doesn’t mean other causes, such as racism, machismo and power, poor training and use of force procedures, age, a dearth of education, complete lack of punishment, and so forth don’t exist and have devastating effects on society. (Another one is the human tendency to mistakenly see things you’re watching for. If you’re speeding and watching for cops, every other car begins to look like a cop. If you’re watching for guns or threatening movements from someone you’ve pulled over…) Finally, a discussion like this one isn’t meant to distract or deflect from the terrible trauma that victims of police violence live with for the rest of their lives. If there is a way we can stop one trauma from leading to another, we should pursue it.

We know officers’ experiences contribute to PTSD and other serious psychological and physiological problems. “Research has indicated that by the time police officers put on their uniform and begin general patrol, their stress-related cardiovascular reactivity is already elevated,” and this is followed by, generally speaking, “at least 900 potentially traumatic incidents over the course of their career.” Some officers will have bigger problems, if they came from the military and were traumatized in the bloodbath of war. Extreme stress and PTSD can lead to aggression and exaggerated startle response and recklessness; in police officers it’s been shown to lead to less control in decision-making “due to heightened arousal to threats, inability to screen out interfering information, or the inability to keep attention.” Academics in The Huffington Post and Psychology Today have connected occupational trauma to brutality, as have former officers on fervent pro-cop sites (for example, could reforms addressing trauma “reduce the number of inappropriate decisions some officers make? If we are concerned about the dysfunctional actions of some cops, is it possible that some of the fault lies with the rest of us who ignore the trauma that officers go through?”). More research would be valuable, but it’s a safe bet police trauma contributes to police brutality. (A connection also exists, by the way, between officer stress and violence against their romantic partners.)

This writer doesn’t have too much more to say on the matter — it simply seems important to connect the two ideas mentioned in the first paragraph, especially for those of us who care about justice and about encouraging others of very different views to care as well. “True, the police have dangerous jobs, but do you see how the extreme stress that most officers experience might make police brutality a serious problem? Perhaps there are other factors, too. Perhaps there are societal changes we can make that would address both officer PTSD or safety and police brutality against ordinary people.” It could be a way to build a bridge or find a sliver of common ground.

How to actually address such trauma will range wildly, of course, from the reactionary, though valid, sentiments from police departments about the need for more mental healthcare to the radical (“Radical simply means grasping things at the root,” Angela Davis) idea that we “Abolish the Police.” After all, no police means no police trauma. And no police brutality. Convincing people that trauma contributes to brutality seems far easier than agreement on how to solve these things.

This is a bit of an aside, but I’m still determining where I personally fall when it comes to what to specifically do about the police. I firmly believe that broad changes are needed concerning: who responds to certain nonviolent calls (it need not be quasi-soldiers, at least not as first responders); the allocation of resources, with reform devoting huge sums into addressing the root causes of crime, namely poverty, instead of into policing and other initiatives that only address the symptoms; the qualifications, education, training, evaluation, use of force procedures, and weaponry of those who respond to violent calls; what an individual can be pulled over or confronted or arrested for, just serious changes to law and policy; who investigates police misconduct (not the departments) and how abusive officers are punished, beginning with termination and blacklisting and ending with prison sentences; and much more. These things, perhaps combined with better mental healthcare and therapy, reduced hours, increased leave, shorter careers, and so forth for those facing traumatic situations, can reduce both the trauma and violence. (Although I don’t recall the specific incident, in the news a few years ago there was a report about how the officer who killed an unarmed black man in the evening had witnessed a murder or suicide that morning; taking him off duty seems like it would have been an obvious thing to do.) But I do suspect that modern societies will always have some traumatic situations and need individuals to enter them, whether it’s the police or something resembling the police. Perhaps more personal study is needed. I recently asked of my acquaintances:

I haven’t studied #PoliceAbolition or #PrisonAbolition theory with any depth. Currently, it seems likely to me that future human societies — more decent ones, with prosperity for all, unarmed response teams, restorative justice, and more — would still require some persons or groups authorized to use force against others in circumstances where de-escalation fails, and require some persons to be separated against their will from the general population, for the sake of its safety, during rehabilitation. These scenarios seem likely to be far rarer when we radically transform social conditions and societal policies, but not disappear completely. Can anyone recommend abolitionist literature that either 1) specifically makes the case that such circumstances would never occur and thus such force requirements are void, or 2) that argues such circumstances would indeed occur but specifically lays out how such requirements could be handled (force could be used) by alternative people or institutions without, over time, devolving back into something close to today’s police and prisons.

My mind may change as I go through some of the recommended readings, but as it stands I wonder if the number of individuals authorized to use force, their trauma, and their brutality can only be greatly reduced, rather than eradicated completely. While a better human society is possible and will be won, a perfect one may be out of reach.

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On Student Teaching

I am now two weeks from concluding my first student teaching placement (Visitation School), and my classroom management skills are still being refined. After observing for five days, slowly beginning my integration into a leadership role, I took over completely from my cooperating teacher. While excited to start, initially I had a couple days where I found one 6th grade class (my homeroom) difficult to control. There were times when other classes stepped out of line, naturally, but the consistency with which my homeroom became noisy and rowdy was discouraging.

“They’re your homeroom,” my cooperating teacher reminded me. “They feel more at home in your classroom, and will try to get away with more.”

There were a few instances where students took someone else’s property, or wrote notes to classmates, but the side chatter was the major offense. I would be attempting to teach and each table would have at least someone making conversation, which obviously distracts both those who wish to pay attention and those who don’t care. I would ask them to refocus and quiet themselves, which would work for but a few precious moments. There was one day I remember I felt very much as if the students were controlling me, rather than the other way around, and I made the mistake of hesitating when I could have doled out consequences. I spoke to my cooperating teacher about it during our feedback session, and she emphasized to me that I needed to prove to the students my willingness to enforce the policies, that I have the same authority as any other teacher in the building.

At Visitation, their classroom management system revolves around “tallies,” one of which equals three laps at recess before one can begin play. My homeroom deserved a tally the day I hesitated. I needed to come up with a concrete, consistent way of disciplining disruptive behavior. So I went home and developed a simple system I had thought about a long time ago: behavior management based on soccer. I cut out and laminated a yellow card and a red card. The next day, I sat each class down in the hall before they entered the room, and told them the yellow card would be shown to them as a warning, the red card as tallies. These could be given individually or as a class, and, like soccer, a red card could be given without a yellow card.

The students were surprisingly excited about this. Perhaps turning punishment into a game intrigued them; regardless, it made me wonder if this would work. But it seemed discussing the expectations I had of them, and the enforcement of such expectations, helped a good deal. Further, I was able to overcome my hesitation that day and dole out consequences for inappropriate behavior. My homeroom I gave a yellow card and then a red card, and they walked laps the next day.

My cooperating teacher noted the system would be effective because it was visual for the students. I also found that it allowed me to easily maintain emotional control; instead of raising my voice, I simply raised a card in my hand, and the class refocused. Its visibility allowed me to say nothing at all.

While containing a different purpose and practice, this system draws important elements from the Do It Again system educator Doug Lemov describes, including no administrative follow-up and logical consequences, but most significantly group accountability (Lemov, 2010, p. 192). It holds an entire class responsible for individual actions, and “builds incentives for individuals to behave positively since it makes them accountable to their peers as well as their teacher” (p. 192). Indeed, my classes almost immediately started regulating themselves, keeping themselves accountable for following my expectations (telling each other to be quiet and settle down, for instance, before I had to say anything).

Lemov would perhaps frown upon the yellow card, and point to the behavioral management technique called No Warning (p. 199). He suggests teachers:

  • Act early. Try to see the favor you are doing kids in catching off-task behavior early and using a minor intervention of consequence to prevent a major consequence later.
  • Act reliably. Be predictably consistent, sufficient to take the variable of how you will react out of the equation and focus students on the action that precipitated your response.
  • Act proportionately. Start small when the misbehavior is small; don’t go nuclear unless the situation is nuclear.

I have tried to follow these guidelines to the best of my ability, but Lemov would say the warning is not taking action, only telling students “a certain amount of disobedience will not only be tolerated but is expected” (p. 200). He would say students will get away with what they can until they are warned, and will only refocus and cease their side conversations afterwards. Lemov makes a valid point, and I have indeed seen this happen to a degree. As a whole, however, the system has been effective, and most of my classes do not at all take advantage of their warning. Knowing they can receive a consequence without a warning has helped, perhaps. After a month of using the cards, I have given my homeroom a red card three times. In my other five classes combined during the same period, there have been two yellows and only one red. I have issued a few individual yellows, but no reds.

Perhaps it is counterproductive to have a warning, but I personally feel that since the primary focus of the system is on group accountability, I need to give talkative students a chance to correct their behavior before consequences are doled out for the entire class. Sometimes a reminder is necessary, the reminder that their actions affect their classmates and that they need to refocus. I do not want to punish the students who are not being disruptive along with those who are without issuing some sort of warning that they are on thin ice.

***

During my two student teaching placements this semester, I greatly enjoyed getting to know my students. It was one of the more rewarding aspects of teaching. Introducing myself and my interests in detail on the first day I arrived proved to be an excellent start; I told them I liked history, soccer, drawing, reading, etc. Building relationships was easy, as students seemed fascinated by me and had an endless array of questions about who I was and where I came from.

Art is something I used to connect with students. At both my schools, the first students I got to know were the budding artists, as I was able to observe them sketching in the corners of their notebooks and later ask to see their work. There was one girl at my first placement who drew a new breed of horse on the homeroom whiteboard each morning; a boy at my second placement was drawing incredible fantasy figures every spare second he had. I was the same way when I was their age, so naturally I struck up conversations about their pictures. I tried to take advantage of such an interest by asking students to draw posters of Hindu gods or sketch images next to vocabulary words to aid recall. Not everyone likes to draw, but I like to encourage the skill and at least provide them an opportunity to try. Beyond this, I would use what novels students had with them to learn about their fascinations and engage them, and many were excited I knew The Hunger Games, The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings. We would discuss our favorite characters and compare such fiction to recent films.

For all my students, I strove to engage them each day with positive behavior, including greeting them by name at the door, drawing with and for them, laughing and joking with them, maintaining a high level of interest in what students were telling me (even if they rambled aimlessly, as they had the tendency to do) and even twice playing soccer with them at recess. The Catholic community of my first placement also provided the chance to worship and pray with my kids, an experience I will not forget.

One of my successes was remaining emotionally cool, giving students a sense of calm, confidence, and control about me. Marzano (2007) writes, “It is important to keep in mind that emotional objectivity does not imply being impersonal with or cool towards students. Rather, it involves keeping a type of emotional distance from the ups and downs of classroom life and not taking students’ outbursts or even students’ direct acts of disobedience personally” (p. 152). Even when I was feeling control slipping away from me, I did my best to be calm, keep my voice low, and correct students in a respectful manner that reminded them they had expectations they needed to meet. Lemov (2010) agrees, writing, “An emotionally constant teacher earns students’ trust in part by having them know he is always under control. Most of all, he knows success is in the long run about a student’s consistent relationship with productive behaviors” (p. 219). Building positive relationships required mutual respect and trust, and emotional constancy was key.

Another technique I emphasized was the demonstration of my passion for social studies, to prove to them the gravity of my personal investment in their success. One lesson from my first placement covered the persecution of Anne Hutchinson in Puritan America; we connected it to modern sexism, such as discrimination against women in terms of wage earnings. Another lesson was about racism, how it originated as a justification for African slavery and how the election of Barack Obama brought forth a surge of openly racist sentiment from part of the U.S. citizenry. I told them repeatedly that we studied history to become dissenters and activists, people who would rise up and destroy sexism and racism. I told them I had a personal stake in their understanding of such material, a personal stake in their future, because they were the ones responsible for changing our society in positive ways. Being the next generation, ending social injustices would soon be up to them.

Marzano (2007) says, “Arguably the quality of the relationships teachers have with students is the keystone of effective management and perhaps even the entirety of teaching” (p. 149). In my observation experiences, I saw burnt out and bitter teachers, who focused their efforts on authoritative control and left positive relationship-building on the sideline. The lack of strong relationships usually meant more chaotic classrooms and more disruptive behavior. As my career begins, I plan to make my stake in student success and my compassion for each person obvious, and stay in the habit.

For more from the author, subscribe and follow or read his books. 

References

Lemov, D. (2010). Teach like a champion: 49 techniques that put students on the path to college. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

Marzano, R. (2007). The art and science of teaching. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.

Cop Car Explodes, Police Pepper Spray Passenger in Moving Vehicle During Plaza Protests

The events of 10:00pm to midnight on May 30, 2020 on Kansas City’s Plaza — protests and unrest following the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis — included the following. 

The police, in riot gear and gas masks, blockaded the intersections along Ward Parkway, refusing to allow newcomers, additional protesters, to move deeper into the Plaza, angering a small but growing crowd. “Let us through!” Journalists likewise were not allowed to enter. From the vantage point at the blockade, it was clear a gathering of protesters was locked in a standoff with police up around 47th and Wyandotte Street. The sound of helicopters, sirens, police radios and bullhorns, and protesters’ shouts clashed in the air. Sharp pops. The protesters inside fled west as one, as police dispersed tear gas. Much concern was voiced from the crowd at the barrier.

After a time, an explosion rocked the Plaza. “Shit!” exclaimed members of the crowd, among variations — and even the police could not help but turn their heads away from the masses and look. It appeared a parked car, near where the standoff occurred, had been firebombed. The press later indicated it was a police car. “It’s going down, boy,” someone said. Flames and smoke rose high, and shortly thereafter fire fighters arrived. Meanwhile, a man, tall and skinny, yelled at the police at the barrier, saying he was a veteran who fought for the rights the police trample upon — “You’re a fucking disgrace.” Two women likewise unleashed their anger.

Walking west along Ward Parkway, in an attempt to follow the group of runners from afar, revealed a bridal shop window smashed. Some jokes from observers about black people wanting to get married tonight — though there did not appear to be anything looted. A young woman and man huddled together nearby, the woman distraught over the scene. Soon the pair entered the store through the front door, quickly followed by a shouting cop. “She owns the place, man, it’s all right,” the observers said. The pair echoed this, and the cop recommended finding someone to board up the window. Various other storefronts were boarded up, in advance, along the street.

“I’m just trying to get to my fucking car,” a passerby said to an acquaintance, realizing he could not enter the parking garage due to the blockades. In the street, gas canisters, COVID-19 masks, abandoned signs, water bottles, graffiti. Another broken storefront window, more graffiti. A fire department vehicle with a smashed windshield. A black woman thanking a cop for being out tonight doing his job.

Reaching Broadway, where one could finally turn north, showed a few people arrested and sitting on the pavement outside the Capital Grille at the feet of the police. They did not seem a part of the fleeing protesters, and may have been taken out of their cars, which were along the street, doors open. Moving north, one met the protesters, now all scattered and disjointed, many moving south but some further west and some simply hanging out here and there. The faint sting of tear gas infected the eyes. Strangers made sure one was all right.

“H&M!” a man hollered triumphantly, a valuable bundle in his hands, before three cops on bikes appeared from nowhere, sirens blasting. The man and several other looters sprinted south down Broadway, pursued.

The central Plaza secured, the main confrontation point became the blockade where the crowd witnessed the car explosion, Ward Parkway and Wyandotte. The group grew considerably, to a few hundred, swelled by the protesters that had fled the tear gas a block north. It was young, diverse. The ranks of police were reinforced as well.

Protesters gathered in Ward Parkway, signs held high: “I Can’t Breathe,” “Black Lives Matter.” A few cars zipped around wildly in circles, as if to emphasize the protesters’ control of the street. A white car with four or five people in it pulled up and distributed water, while also providing the tunes. A dance circle formed for a time, while both sides held their ground. Skateboards, scooters shot by. A more festive atmosphere. A chant began — no justice, no peace. But mostly individuals had their say — calls for an end to police killings and abuse.

Eventually the police ordered the protesters to clear the streets and return to the sidewalks or face arrest. The street was full of people, but most were already there. The police seemed to select one individual to make an example of, and surged toward a white man with a sign, arresting him. Their orders ignored, the police pressed forward. Someone threw a water bottle at them. The police shook their gas cans ominously. “Scary ass motherfuckers,” a young woman said. Another woman was arrested. A man hollered, “The police started as slave-catchers! Not much has changed.” “You don’t have to do what your superiors say,” someone called out. Some taunted the black officers, the so-labeled “Uncle Toms.”

The police surged forward, pepper spray raised. A protester threw a brick or rock at them as everyone scrambled in retreat, by foot, scooter, or vehicle. The white car that had delivered water was in trouble, needing to back up toward the police in order to get out of its space and flee. Several officers walked up to the vehicle menacingly. “They’re going, they’re going!” shouted protesters. “Leave them alone!” An officer sprayed into the face of someone in the back seat as the vehicle backed up and lurched forward, the driver clearly panicked.

After pushing their line forward, the police then retreated back to their original position. The crowd then began moving forward, back to theirs.

The police announced that gas would be used if the crowd did not disperse, which the crowd had no interest in doing. The hiss of gas pierced the night air as cans were thrown, grey smoke billowing and streaking behind them. Pandemonium. Screams and shouts as all turned and ran, except for one brave soul who threw a can back. The tear gas burned, blinded. The police, marching forward, were quickly obscured, swallowed by smoke and distance, as the protesters splintered into three masses and fled east, south, and west.

The tear gas appeared to end the Plaza protest — by midnight the crowd had not reformed. However, a woman, leaning out the passenger window of a car moving down Ward Parkway, called out, “We’re going to Westport!”

The time is 3:40am on Sunday, May 31, 2020. Three of the four officers involved in George Floyd’s death have yet to be arrested.

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