Narrate

In the summer of 1871, half a decade before his violent death, George Armstrong Custer was commissioned to write a series of articles about life on the American Plains.  “My purpose is to make my narrative as truthful as possible,” Custer remarked in a letter concerning the assignment. 

The word “narrative,” then and now, is often used synonymously with the word “story.”  Although a narrative can be merely an account, or a telling of a series of events, the term also often implies a literary quality.  A narrative, in the literary sense, at least, has a beginning, middle, and an eventual end.  Narratives generally contain struggle. Struggle implies conflict, and conflict requires at least two opposing forces.

What happened in Ferguson, Missouri this past August was tragic.  What has happened since the death of Michael Brown has also been terrible.  However, neither the shooting nor its aftermath can be truly understood by themselves.  Just like anything else that has ever happened, these events transpired and must be considered within the framework of the much larger narrative of American history.

As we all know, one of the great crimes in our nation’s narrative was slavery.  Slavery, of course, is not an American institution but has been a vice for most of human history.  American slavery was relatively unique, however, in that it was so closely tied to race.  Racism did not lead to American slavery.  American slavery was caused by a demonic combination of geography, economic specifics, and human greed. 

Slave owners, just like anyone else, like to sleep at night, and therefore it became cognitively necessary for them to view their carnal property as less than human.   Over time, this cognitive dissonance caused collective brain damage.  Slavery poisoned America, and although the nation is no longer actively drinking the stuff, we are still suffering from the effects.

With this in mind, the fatal violence that occurred between Michael Brown and Officer Wilson on August 9 seems to fit within this broader American narrative.  An unarmed black teenager was gun downed by a white police officer in a state that has had more than its fair share of race issues.  It was an act of violence that has been perpetuated countless times throughout the history of our country.

The problem with the shooting, however—at least as it pertains to this discussion about the broader narrative of American race relations—is that the facts surrounding the event simply do not fit neatly into that narrative.  All of the evidence available, from the autopsy to the ballistic report, strongly collaborates with Officer Wilson.  Based on those rather annoying facts, the grand jury very reasonably decided that Officer Wilson basically did what he said he did.  He acted in self-defense.  He used deadly force, which was part of his training, to protect himself and his partner from an individual he considered to be a threat.

Thus, these facts do not fit into the narrative that perpetuates the belief that a militarized police force continues to use deadly violence against a minority population to ensure the status quo.

Which is not so say that just that very thing has never happened, or that it does not happen in some cases.

It just did not happen in Ferguson, Missouri this past August.

Unfortunately, the facts standing in the way of that unsubstantiated narrative clearly have very little effect on those who have exploited the event for their own destructive ends.  For some individuals, their own version of the story becomes more seductive than the actual story itself.

However, while we are on the topic of unsubstantiated narratives, let’s quickly consider another one before closing.  

There is another American narrative that says that Lincoln freed all the slaves in 1863, that Dr. King had his dream a hundred years later, and that everything has been pretty cool ever since.  The problem with this narrative, though, is that it doesn’t really fit the facts, either. 

Returning to the toxin analogy, if you poison yourself with alcohol on Saturday night, you’re going to feel pretty rough around the edges on Sunday morning, and maybe even on Monday afternoon.  The first African slaves came to this continent in 1526.  The Civil war ended in 1865.  That’s over 300 years of outright poison consumption chased by another century’s worth of Jim Crow.  That’s going to cause a hangover.   

These facts, of course, are not meant to excuse bad behavior by anyone, regardless of their race.  They are also not designed to minimize the crucial influence each person has on their own destiny, regardless of their background.  These facts merely serve as a reminder that American history is complicated.  American history is not and has never been a mere picture book story easily understood without serious insight.

Life might seem easier to understand if we stick to the old storylines, even when they no longer read true.  However, like Custer, our goal should always be to make our stories as truthful as possible.  We can ignore a reality that does not fit into our version of events for only so long before we find ourselves surrounded by an unfamiliar present.

Before we find ourselves, ironically enough, surrounded like our scribe General Custer himself, who once, quite confidently, believed in a narrative that claimed “There are not enough Indians in the world to defeat the Seventh Cavalry.”

It turns out his narrative was untrue, which is something to consider the next time we watch the news.