Sean Bell
The months of November and December 2006 were plagued by two new cases of police brutality in New York City: the shootings of Sean Bell and Timur Person. Additionally, in March 2007 the worst fire New York City has seen for seventeen years killed nine Malian immigrants in Highbridge, eight of them young children. Because of these unfortunate events, I have had the opportunity to study the creation of their memorial walls from their conception. Both Sean and Timur were highly politicized deaths that have caused outrage in communities of color across the country; the grieving processes for both provide compelling insights into the powerful process of public memorialization. The Highbridge fire’s extreme tragedy also presented an opportunity to witness an entire community’s extraordinarily public mourning. In the pages to come I will discuss Sean, Timur, the Highbridge fire victims, their family, friends’, and communities’ story which I hope will paint a fuller picture of the significance of memorial walls.
Sean Bell was killed by the police in a hail of fifty bullets on his wedding day, November 25th, 2006. Sean had been celebrating at his bachelor party in a club in Jamaica, Queens. When he and his friends had a verbal argument with some others at the club, he and two friends decided to leave. An undercover police officer who had been scouting the club for prostitute and drug activities signaled to five more undercover policemen in their unmarked van outside that one of the men may have had a gun. When Sean’s car was approached by three undercovers, Sean and his friends thought that they might be trying to rob them; Sean quickly attempted to get away by lurching the car forward, hitting one of the officers, and then backing into a grated storefront. At this point, the undercover officers opened fire, shooting a total of fifty bullets at the three men; one officer finished a clip, reloaded his gun, and kept shooting.
The investigation revealed that none of the three men shot were armed. The shooting was reminiscent of Amadou Diallo’s in 1999, another case in which an unarmed black man was clearly treated with undue force. Just as with Amadou, communities and individuals who care about justice were enraged and organized their anger with mass protests. There have been numerous rallies, protests, vigils, and meetings to demand justice for Sean Bell’s case, but before all of the political organization, there was a wall.
Sean’s memorial was put up just yards from where he was killed. The glass from his car’s window was not swept away; it remained as sparkling evidence of injustice among the candles that burned to commemorate him.
One of them read,
Since the beginning of time
A heavy burden has been put upon us
Not only to limit our capabilities, but
To divide us as well.
Whether there be better days ahead has
Thus far to be determined
Yet, through it all we’ve been able to
Overcome the most difficulty of the time
So, even though what we have now may not
Look promising, I forsee a change coming
As everyone knows nothing stays the
Same.
Just as the four seasons come and go,
So shall we so no matter how hard things may seem, and
Although our backs may be against the wall,
If we are truly the seeds of this earth, then
Lets find it within our hearts to make this
Earth a better place to live
Because when the smoke clears, when everything settles down
As God is our Savior,
We will be left standing high and proud.
All those unanswered questions will be answered.
It is time we say we’re not taking it anymore.
It is time we say stop all the madness.
It is time that we demand a change.
It’s time people, it’s time to let your voices be heard.
It’s time that we fight back but not with guns,
With our minds.
We’ll continue to keep on striving
Until we reach higher grounds,
Until everything and everyone is seen as one and the same.
Just as the almighty sees us all as
Being one and same, and just as he sees
Us all being equal.
So whether you are black white, hispanics, jewish, or asian, it’s time,
It’s time to let our voices be heard….
Yes, our spirit may have been broken once,
But no more.
We will do everything within our rights
To overcome these obstacles that has been put in front of us.
People of the world unite.
Other notes advocated no such union: “death to the pigs who kill our kids” was repeated in writing on several papers. Others included, “2006 has ended in murder” and “cops need to be held accountable.”
The political mobilization around Sean Bell’s shooting has been remarkable. I have attended at least five rallies and have heard of countless others. Each of the political demonstrations demanding justice for Sean Bell reveals the proliferation of visual aids to the cause. Shirts, hats, suits, banners, stickers, pins-you name it there is a picture of Sean Bell and his widow and children on it.
Pins and hats with images of Sean and his family and or slograns demanding justicewere designed for marchers and activists to show their support. Reverend Al Sharpton organized a march down 5th Avenue during the height of the Christmas shopping season entitled, “Shopping for Justice.” The march aimed to bring attention to the Sean Bell case and disrupt “business as usual.”
The marches and rallies did not end with Shopping for Justice. The October 22nd Coalition and Parents Against Police Brutality organized numerous rallies in Jamaica. I attended one of them on a cold December night.
At the October 22nd Coalition rally in Queens, Margarita Rosario, whose son and nephew were killed by the police, shouts, “they cover it and cover it and cover it again…my son stayed at the morgue for two and a half weeks! Why did the police have to become judge and jury in one night? I don’t want to see Giuliani’s face on the news-I hate him!”
Nearly one hundred people gathered and expressed their outrage at Sean Bell’s shooting. Racial tension at the rally was extremely high. There were only a few white activists there and when one NYC Civil Liberties Union spokesperson had his turn at the mircrophone, he was verbally assaulted by the crowd. As he addressed the angry mob, assuring them that the NYCLU was willing to help any community members who had personally experienced police brutality, one middle-aged woman began shouting inches from his face, “get out of here,” “we don’t need your help,” and “you are part of the problem, not the solution!” Others shouted at the organizers, “October 22nd Coalition is a fucking rock group!”
A white member of the October 22nd Coalition activist group held up a sign naming all the victims of police brutality in America. One of the organization’s main focuses is to update their book, “Stolen Lives,” a documentation of the many Americans who have been killed by the police.
Other political actions seemed to have stronger sentiments of solidarity. The most striking example was the Bell family’s fifty-day vigil for their son. Beginning on January 1st, the Bells organized twenty-four hour presence outside their police precinct in Jamaica. As I approached the vigil for the first time one frigid Sunday afternoon I could hear the chanting of “this little light of mine” before I even saw the crowd. I happened to show up on a day when the activist group Power to the People organized a showing and nearly eighty members from Newark participated in the vigil.
Members of Power to the People at Sean's 24 hour vigil.
After the protestors boarded the big bus from where they came I began to talk with the men sticking it out in the cold for the rest of the afternoon. When by chance I happened to engage in conversation with William Bell, Sean’s father, and he understood me to be writing about his son’s death, he invited me into his warming trailer for a more private interview. There, as I struggled to compose my first question and William sensed that I was overwhelmed by the situation, he hugged me endearingly. Struck, as I was, by his warmth, I returned the hug and before I knew it, we were crying in each other’s arms. Needless to say, our conversation that followed provided me with uncut, genuine insight into the process of grieving and memorialization.
William Bell is a rock. There is something about his eyes and barrelly chest that make everyone feel like his child. As we warmed up in his trailer he told me stories about Sean’s life—how he “was about to hit it off great.” Sean did odds and ends. At one point, he was studying to be an electrician; he was also a star pitcher for numerous baseball teams. William remembers Sean’s baseball shining moments. He recounted them in detail to me, almost as if there was nothing else to say-except there was. Without a prompt from me, William told me that he wants to put up a huge memorial mural for his son. About memorial murals at large, he said, “they’re always looking at you…you can’t ever forget.”
The investigation revealed that none of the three men shot were armed. The shooting was reminiscent of Amadou Diallo’s in 1999, another case in which an unarmed black man was clearly treated with undue force. Just as with Amadou, communities and individuals who care about justice were enraged and organized their anger with mass protests. There have been numerous rallies, protests, vigils, and meetings to demand justice for Sean Bell’s case, but before all of the political organization, there was a wall.
Sean’s memorial was put up just yards from where he was killed. The glass from his car’s window was not swept away; it remained as sparkling evidence of injustice among the candles that burned to commemorate him.
Sean Bell’s Memorial by Night: Glinting Glass and Candlelight.
The memorial went up just hours after Sean died. The sidewalk was covered in candles, flowers, teddy bears, and picture frames. The wall became a collage of statements by friends, family, and caring strangers.
Sean’s makeshift memorial wall was still intact when I took this photograph nearly a week after his death.
One of them read,
Since the beginning of time
A heavy burden has been put upon us
Not only to limit our capabilities, but
To divide us as well.
Whether there be better days ahead has
Thus far to be determined
Yet, through it all we’ve been able to
Overcome the most difficulty of the time
So, even though what we have now may not
Look promising, I forsee a change coming
As everyone knows nothing stays the
Same.
Just as the four seasons come and go,
So shall we so no matter how hard things may seem, and
Although our backs may be against the wall,
If we are truly the seeds of this earth, then
Lets find it within our hearts to make this
Earth a better place to live
Because when the smoke clears, when everything settles down
As God is our Savior,
We will be left standing high and proud.
All those unanswered questions will be answered.
It is time we say we’re not taking it anymore.
It is time we say stop all the madness.
It is time that we demand a change.
It’s time people, it’s time to let your voices be heard.
It’s time that we fight back but not with guns,
With our minds.
We’ll continue to keep on striving
Until we reach higher grounds,
Until everything and everyone is seen as one and the same.
Just as the almighty sees us all as
Being one and same, and just as he sees
Us all being equal.
So whether you are black white, hispanics, jewish, or asian, it’s time,
It’s time to let our voices be heard….
Yes, our spirit may have been broken once,
But no more.
We will do everything within our rights
To overcome these obstacles that has been put in front of us.
People of the world unite.
Other notes advocated no such union: “death to the pigs who kill our kids” was repeated in writing on several papers. Others included, “2006 has ended in murder” and “cops need to be held accountable.”
The political mobilization around Sean Bell’s shooting has been remarkable. I have attended at least five rallies and have heard of countless others. Each of the political demonstrations demanding justice for Sean Bell reveals the proliferation of visual aids to the cause. Shirts, hats, suits, banners, stickers, pins-you name it there is a picture of Sean Bell and his widow and children on it.
Pins and hats with images of Sean and his family and or slograns demanding justicewere designed for marchers and activists to show their support. Reverend Al Sharpton organized a march down 5th Avenue during the height of the Christmas shopping season entitled, “Shopping for Justice.” The march aimed to bring attention to the Sean Bell case and disrupt “business as usual.”
Tens of thousands march past Bergdorf Goodman’s and the Apple Store on 5th Avenue, demanding justice for Sean Bell and communities under the gun.
Numerous black power, panther, and other groups who are furious at the poor police-community relations in many non-white neighborhoods held their fists in the air and counted the numbers one through fifty. Some signs read, “No Justice, No Peace,” “Stop Police Terror,” “I am a victim of police brutality,” “Jail the Killer Cops,” “Police the Police,” and “NYPD Guilty.”The marches and rallies did not end with Shopping for Justice. The October 22nd Coalition and Parents Against Police Brutality organized numerous rallies in Jamaica. I attended one of them on a cold December night.
At the October 22nd Coalition rally in Queens, Margarita Rosario, whose son and nephew were killed by the police, shouts, “they cover it and cover it and cover it again…my son stayed at the morgue for two and a half weeks! Why did the police have to become judge and jury in one night? I don’t want to see Giuliani’s face on the news-I hate him!”A white member of the October 22nd Coalition activist group held up a sign naming all the victims of police brutality in America. One of the organization’s main focuses is to update their book, “Stolen Lives,” a documentation of the many Americans who have been killed by the police.
Other political actions seemed to have stronger sentiments of solidarity. The most striking example was the Bell family’s fifty-day vigil for their son. Beginning on January 1st, the Bells organized twenty-four hour presence outside their police precinct in Jamaica. As I approached the vigil for the first time one frigid Sunday afternoon I could hear the chanting of “this little light of mine” before I even saw the crowd. I happened to show up on a day when the activist group Power to the People organized a showing and nearly eighty members from Newark participated in the vigil.
Members of Power to the People at Sean's 24 hour vigil.After the protestors boarded the big bus from where they came I began to talk with the men sticking it out in the cold for the rest of the afternoon. When by chance I happened to engage in conversation with William Bell, Sean’s father, and he understood me to be writing about his son’s death, he invited me into his warming trailer for a more private interview. There, as I struggled to compose my first question and William sensed that I was overwhelmed by the situation, he hugged me endearingly. Struck, as I was, by his warmth, I returned the hug and before I knew it, we were crying in each other’s arms. Needless to say, our conversation that followed provided me with uncut, genuine insight into the process of grieving and memorialization.
William Bell is a rock. There is something about his eyes and barrelly chest that make everyone feel like his child. As we warmed up in his trailer he told me stories about Sean’s life—how he “was about to hit it off great.” Sean did odds and ends. At one point, he was studying to be an electrician; he was also a star pitcher for numerous baseball teams. William remembers Sean’s baseball shining moments. He recounted them in detail to me, almost as if there was nothing else to say-except there was. Without a prompt from me, William told me that he wants to put up a huge memorial mural for his son. About memorial murals at large, he said, “they’re always looking at you…you can’t ever forget.”
Sean Bell's makeshift memorial, five months after his murder.
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