The state of social media and "grassroots" journalism by well-meaning Americans and Brits can only be described as a tragicomedy of Shakespearean proportions.
The man in question is wearing a shirt with a noose--signifying a lynching--over an old Southern flag and the words, "Mississippi Justice." For most discerning folks, the noose, not the flag, is the main issue. After all, Mississippi's official state flag includes the Confederate "Southern cross," and I've seen several stores in Asia selling Confederate flag merchandise to young buyers who probably discovered "Sweet Home Alabama" on Spotify. Here, we have no way of knowing--without further investigation--whether the man wearing it actually advocates vigilantism or racism.
Basic logic ought to tell us that without due process--a seemingly forgotten value along with its cousin, humility--we don't know if the shirt was his father's and a keepsake, or whether he was wearing it as a reminder of Southern history. Wearing a diamond ring doesn't mean its wearer supports "blood diamonds" and African exploitation, just as driving a gasoline-powered car doesn't mean you hate the environment.
Unfortunately, in this case, the reasoning is most likely simple: Mr. Clayton Hickey, a former Memphis police officer who resigned after a questionable situation involving a 17 year-old girl, probably just liked the shirt. I wouldn't want my local police officer anywhere near a noose, but my greater concern is we've accepted a society where we cannot easily access his law enforcement conduct--done on the taxpayers' dime--and yet, his voting behavior--which is supposed to be private--was the cause of his downfall.
Mr. Hickey is an easy target. He has a stereotypically white name, a controversial history, and an apparently large presence. Yet, he seems to have reformed himself as a male nurse, and nowhere do we see any indication his nursing skills were deficient or discriminatory. I wonder if we realize it is the Mr. Hickeys of the world the law and due process are supposed to protect, just as they should if he were named Mr. Daquan Johnson with a juvenile criminal conviction, voting in a booth wearing an N.W.A. shirt.
Once upon a time, as an employment lawyer, I believed in the law's ability to protect minorities; to protect employee off-the-job behavior irrelevant to one's position; and especially to keep the mob from jumping to conclusions before all the facts were in. Today, I wonder what anyone can really do when the mob is all of us: the hospital that fired him, the man who posted the photo without actually speaking to him, and every online commentator who twists the knife further into the coffin of the once-cherished value of American due process. Have we no shame? Or at least the decency to spend our time on something worthwhile?
Bonus: most Americans are unaware American hospitals are tied closely to government policies and funding. "State governments became the largest single source of funds for virtually every major hospital in the country, giving them the power to influence--or even dictate--the policy decisions made by these hospitals." -- John Steele Gordon, Imprimis, 9/2018
Basic logic ought to tell us that without due process--a seemingly forgotten value along with its cousin, humility--we don't know if the shirt was his father's and a keepsake, or whether he was wearing it as a reminder of Southern history. Wearing a diamond ring doesn't mean its wearer supports "blood diamonds" and African exploitation, just as driving a gasoline-powered car doesn't mean you hate the environment.
Unfortunately, in this case, the reasoning is most likely simple: Mr. Clayton Hickey, a former Memphis police officer who resigned after a questionable situation involving a 17 year-old girl, probably just liked the shirt. I wouldn't want my local police officer anywhere near a noose, but my greater concern is we've accepted a society where we cannot easily access his law enforcement conduct--done on the taxpayers' dime--and yet, his voting behavior--which is supposed to be private--was the cause of his downfall.
Mr. Hickey is an easy target. He has a stereotypically white name, a controversial history, and an apparently large presence. Yet, he seems to have reformed himself as a male nurse, and nowhere do we see any indication his nursing skills were deficient or discriminatory. I wonder if we realize it is the Mr. Hickeys of the world the law and due process are supposed to protect, just as they should if he were named Mr. Daquan Johnson with a juvenile criminal conviction, voting in a booth wearing an N.W.A. shirt.
Once upon a time, as an employment lawyer, I believed in the law's ability to protect minorities; to protect employee off-the-job behavior irrelevant to one's position; and especially to keep the mob from jumping to conclusions before all the facts were in. Today, I wonder what anyone can really do when the mob is all of us: the hospital that fired him, the man who posted the photo without actually speaking to him, and every online commentator who twists the knife further into the coffin of the once-cherished value of American due process. Have we no shame? Or at least the decency to spend our time on something worthwhile?
Bonus: most Americans are unaware American hospitals are tied closely to government policies and funding. "State governments became the largest single source of funds for virtually every major hospital in the country, giving them the power to influence--or even dictate--the policy decisions made by these hospitals." -- John Steele Gordon, Imprimis, 9/2018
