Courtney Cogburn
I was in a meeting when I received a notification that the jury had reached a verdict. My heart dropped, my face changed, I teared up and I started to stumble over my words. I explained why I was having this reaction and then said, “I’m scared.” They offered to end the meeting, but I welcomed the distraction.
When we are calculating the toll of racism on Black bodies, we should own that this too is racism, this is an exposure to racism—waiting for verdicts, expecting the worst, and unable to hold hope for fear of the devastation that will follow. These feelings are not only about the accumulation of racial injustice, particularly as related to police violence, but in this case, and in the opinion of many, the murder or rather the public lynching of George Floyd could not be clearer—the possibility that there is no legal response to an act so depraved, well-documented and witnessed would be absolutely devastating.
For me, it will also mean a deep reflection of whether it is possible to produce the science necessary to right the wrongs so deeply engrained into the fabric of our country and whether I can continue my work examining racism while also protecting my sanity, well-being, and soul.
And in spite of the guilty verdict, I remain terrified. The verdict was the right decision, but it is not justice.