In case our fellow readers missed this weekend's New York Times Magazine article on our beloved little gem of a city, we thought we'd republish it here. And we thought we'd tip our hand a little bit and say, we had our "eyes" full of it before it was published. It seems the author was a frequent reader of your loveable Eye. But alas, here it is by former UNM faculty member Justin St. Germain:
TWO
weeks ago, in a vacant lot on the west side of Albuquerque, a few
teenagers beat two homeless men to death. I read about the attack in a
hotel room in Nebraska, en route to a new job, hours after leaving New
Mexico for good. I wish I could say the news surprised me. But after
three years of living in Albuquerque, I’d gotten used to hearing stories
about arbitrary violence, especially against the homeless.
I
had a hard time describing Albuquerque to outsiders, who usually knew
it only from the TV show “Breaking Bad.” I tried comparing it to Tucson,
a city of similar size and climate where I’d previously lived, but that
didn’t convey how Albuquerque felt. Other times I’d compare it to the
Mission District of San Francisco, with its large homeless population.
But neither of those cities prepared me for Albuquerque, the sense of
threat, the air as thick with tension as it often was with dust.
The
rate of violent crime in Albuquerque is nearly double the national
average. The homelessness rate, though harder to quantify, is similarly
high. In San Francisco, I was used to homeless people sleeping in every
storefront, but they were largely ignored, or, at worst, taunted. In
Albuquerque, it was different. The homeless and mentally ill were
victimized to a striking degree
, even by the very people responsible for protecting them: the police.
, even by the very people responsible for protecting them: the police.
In
March, Albuquerque Police Department officers shot and killed a
homeless man named James Boyd. The shooting wasn’t unusual. Albuquerque
police are notorious for using excessive force. They’ve killed 27 people
since 2010, and their rate of deadly shootings is eight times that of
their counterparts in New York City. The Department of Justice recently
released the findings of an investigation that revealed a pattern of
civil rights violations, unjustified use of force and lack of
accountability. Many of the victims had histories of homelessness and
mental illness. The only difference with Mr. Boyd’s death was that the
shooting was caught on video by cameras mounted on the officers’
helmets.
The
videos, which are widely available on the Internet, show Mr. Boyd
saying he’s afraid the officers are going to shoot him. As he picks up
his bags, they shoot stun grenades and sic police dogs on him. He draws
knives, presumably to defend himself from the dogs, and turns away as if
to flee. Then the officers open fire with assault rifles.
Defenders
of the Albuquerque Police Department pointed out Mr. Boyd’s history of
mental illness and noted that early in the encounter he had threatened
to kill the officers. (“I’m almost going to kill you right now,” he
said. “Don’t give me another directive. Don’t attempt to give me, the
Department of Defense, another directive.”) But it’s hard to watch the
video and see anything but sanctioned murder.
A
few weeks later, an officer with a history of being accused of using
excessive force shot and killed 19-year-old Mary Hawkes, claiming she
had pointed a gun at him. His lapel camera yielded no video; after
analyzing the device, the manufacturer said it had either malfunctioned
or been shut off. She later tested positive for methamphetamine. Less
than two weeks after that, officers shot and killed a military veteran
with a history of mental health issues and a gun who had barricaded
himself in his home. The department later released only a brief segment
of video.
Protests
erupted in response to the killings, including one I watched from my
front porch that shut down Central Avenue for hours, spilled onto
Interstate 25 and ended in the early morning, when police shot tear gas
into the streets of downtown. Protesters later disrupted a City Council
meeting.
At
first it seemed as if the rest of the country didn’t much care that a
metro area of nearly a million people had become a powder keg. But in
the two weeks since the brutal beating by the teenagers, people have
started paying attention. They are asking how something that terrible
could happen, what kind of place breeds violence like that. The
teenagers reportedly confessed to randomly beating dozens of other
homeless people in the last year. A police department spokesman, Simon
Drobik, has been quoted expressing his horror and lamenting the fact
that the police received no reports of the other attacks.
Coming
from this department — which has shown how little value it sets on the
life of Albuquerque’s most vulnerable citizens — that seems
hypocritical. No wonder homeless victims aren’t coming forward, when
they know what kind of treatment they might receive.
Before
seeing the Boyd video, I had frequently called the police because of
situations involving the homeless: for the woman I found lying
unresponsive in my front yard, the ranting man trespassing on my
neighbor’s porch who refused to leave, the drunk who climbed the fence
into my back yard at 3 in the morning, lit all the burners on my propane
grill, and fell asleep next to it. After the video, I stopped calling. I
was afraid they’d show up shooting, and I didn’t want blood on my
hands.
If
the police officers themselves set an example of violence against the
homeless, they shouldn’t be surprised if others follow it.
One
Christmas Day, I came home to find my street cordoned off, news vans
parked by the abandoned taqueria. A shivering reporter told me that a
homeless man had been found dead in the Dumpster, and that it might have
been a homicide. I never heard the results of the investigation, if
there were results, if there was an investigation.
This
June, a truck swerved onto the sidewalk near a homeless shelter and ran
over four people sleeping there, killing one and injuring the others.
Surveillance footage suggested it was intentional.
Why
wouldn’t the people who committed these crimes believe they could kill
and get away with it, when the cops keep doing exactly that? (The original story can be read here: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/03/opinion/sunday/goodbye-albuquerque-land-of-violence.html?_r=0)
While the nation gasps in what to think of our little gem of a city, we at the Eye are left wondering what if all the other little nasties that our fair city holds were to really brought before the city. You remember those Mr. Berry, Mr. Perry, Ms. Martinez right? You know, things like:
APD's ex-chief's special gig with Taser?
CABQ's CAO's little jaunt's to shooting scenes?
CABQ's Mayor's little gig's with ladies who leave thongs at his office?
CABQ's little lawsuits against its own labor unions?
The murder coverup of prominent civil rights lawyer and foe of APD, Mary Han/
CABQ's scapegoating of its own officers including John Doyle and Robert Woolever?
APD's fabrications and distortion of crime statistics to falsify crime trends for political gain?
APD's in-house walking political operative TJ Wilham (and endless eating el gordo grande)?
APD's coverup of the West Mesa Murders until even Ray Schultz couldn't hid it?
Ray Schultz's continued manipulation of current chief Gordon Eden (watch what your family says Gordo, we got ears everywhere...)
