"Out of control!": As Summer Heats Up, Testimony Describes MPD as Brutal, Lawless

50-60 Minneapolis residents gathered at the Urban League on the north side's Plymouth Avenue Monday night to give testimony about brutality and harassment at the hands (and batons, tasers, guns, etc.) of the Minneapolis Police Department. Their stories showed that police misconduct against people of color and the homeless is not isolated, and nearly all present were in agreement that, as one speaker proclaimed, "they've got to be accountable. Minneapolis has one of the most brutal police departments in the U.S."

The primary aim of this public hearing and an upcoming hearing to be scheduled on the south side was to gather testimony, to be shared with federal officials, with the goal of putting the Minneapolis Police Department under federal receivership. With a decree of receivership from the Department of Justice, the MPD would be under official supervision from the federal government until it became in compliance with the law. This new strategy is being used, say its proponents, since a decade of organizing around civilian review boards, individual lawsuits, a class action suit, and federal mediation has not succeeded in stopping MPD violence and harassment.

With lawyers, activists, a representative of Keith Ellison's office, and many survivors present, the testimonies were mixed with calls for communal action. "The people receiving these brutalities," said one audience member after telling his story, "outnumber the people who are doing it."

Related: Cop Culture Series on KFAI Radio | MPLS Civil Rights Department on Chopping Block | Community Members Rally in Reponse to Fong Lee Verdict | Ofiong Sanders Imprisoned for Lurking |  July 11: Hastings Rally One Year After Police Killing | CUAPB 

To kick off the event, a panel of activists spoke briefly about their own experiences. Michelle Gross of Communities United Against Police Brutality (CUAPB), which organized the hearing in conjunction with members of the Police Community Relations Council, AIM, Asamblea de Derechos Civiles, and others, revealed that CUAPB was once handling 5-12 cases a month from calls to its 874-STOP hotline. Now it handles that many cases every week. During the recent Fong Lee civil trial, the hotline received 19 calls in 2 days.

Another panel member, Pablo Tapia, is a community organizer for the Asamblea de Derechos Civiles, which organizes amongst primarily Latino churches. Tapia told his own story about police harassment: he was recently pulled over five times in eight days, twice by the same cop. "The second time he pulled me over, he recognized me and almost ran away," Tapia joked. But racially-spurred harassment like this is emblematic of serious systemic strain between the Latino community and the police, he said, describing how officers will steal money and harass families during house raids.

The focus of the hearing was on audience members' testimony, which lasted for over two hours. (In many of the testimonies related below, names have been changed to initials in order to protect the speakers' identities.) They ranged from experiences of relatively low-level harassment to discussion of cases like Tycel Nelson, shot in the back and killed by MPD Officer Daniel May in 1990, and Quincy Smith, a former KMOJ DJ tased to death by officers last December. Smith's killing was ruled a homicide by medical examiners. But of the dozens of local police killings in which the perpetrators have run free, the one on everyone's mind Monday night was the murder of Fong Lee.

Sadness, but not surprise

One of the first people to speak was Shoua Lee, the sister of Fong Lee, whose mother was also in the audience. Fong Lee was shot eight times and killed by Minneapolis police officer Jason Anderson on July 22, 1996. The gun found at the scene had no fingerprint or DNA match, and in fact had been in MPD property since 2005. Nonetheless, Last month, Anderson was found not guilty of wrongdoing by an all white, rural jury in federal court in St. Paul.

Supporters of the Lee family say the jury instructions were flawed enough to contradict recent U.S. Supreme Court rulings. Also, they said, Judge Paul Magnuson interpreted the law to say that if Anderson only perceived Lee had a gun, he was justified in the shooting - thus rendering the video evidence seeming to show no gun in Lee's possession nearly irrelevant. Furthermore, Judge Magnuson allowed background information on Lee to be introduced as evidence, but prohibited the introduction of background on Anderson. The family plans to appeal.

Said Gross of CUAPB, despite the saddening injustice, "All segments of the community have worked together on that case. I've never seen the level of unity in our community that I see now."

Meanwhile, on Monday, Officer Anderson was himself arrested on a misdemeanor domestic assault charge. A statement from Lee's family said they were "not surprised to hear the recent news regarding Officer Anderson," who, predictably, is still on the job.

"For what is it that I became a U.S. citizen? Ticket, ticket, ticket, ticket"

Many testimonies came from Somali cab drivers, who have faced intensifying police harassment in the last two years, mostly in the form of tickets for a litany of supposed offenses. "We pay two income taxes," said one driver. "The real one and the fines." This driver has been ticketed within seconds of stopping to wait for a passenger. "Why don't they just ask us to move?" he says.

But once when he asked an MPD officer that question, he relates, the response was, "You want to go to jail?"

The numbers alone are astounding. One officer gave 160 tickets a week to cab drivers alone. One driver received 17 tickets last month; another, eight, while working only on weekends. The staggering quantities of fines for parking violations - particularly downtown, where taxi stands are scarce - and petty offenses are sapping the incomes of many Somali drivers to less than $6 an hour. "The city is draining our pockets - we're insufficiently supporting our families," said one. "We need help."

I., a driver in Minneapolis for eight years, told of a recent Saturday night downtown when, stopped at a traffic light, a cop pulled up behind him, honking and screaming. The officer demanded that he move, which was impossible. The cop then wrote him three tickets: for no trip sheet, for a parking violation, and for wearing jeans, all the while threatening to arrest I. if he said anything. "They can do whatever they want," he said.

Cab driver M., meanwhile, told about being ticketed near 24th and Chicago because his cab was supposedly too heavy. He pointed out the U-Haul parked across the street to the traffic control officer, who said, "call the city if you have a problem." Those were nice words compared to what a traffic cop told driver A.: "I'm sick and tired of you people," officer number 65 yelled. "What's that mean?" inquired A., only to get more racial insults in return. Later, he was ticketed for stepping outside his car to take a smoke break.

Another driver was ticketed for parking in front of his own house - a "commercial vehicle in a residential area."

"If he gives enough tickets, does he get a bonus or something? I don't know," said another.

"Now is the time for cab drivers to be more united and come together," said yet another driver. Many indicated a desire to unionize and asked for help in accomplishing the feat. Community activists and a representative of Keith Ellison's congressional office promised further meetings to discuss the matter more; after all, taxi drivers in other big cities have organized around similar issues with success.

"If we don't get some leverage, this summer is gonna be brutal"

In addition to the cab drivers, testimonies came from mostly black residents of North Minneapolis, with Latino, Hmong, and white residents also speaking to their experiences with the police. The testimonies were only a small sample of what happens in Minneapolis every day: "Every one of you knows four or five others who could've spoken here today, I know," said one speaker, and several more high-profile incidents could not be discussed in depth due to ongoing litigation. Testimonies ranged from shocking violence to the types of persistent harassment that serve as a precursor to brutality. Among the stories:

• M., an African American man, related one of "several incidents" he's had with the MPD. Late last year, after an argument with a neighbor in which he was assaulted, the MPD entered and searched M.'s apartment without a warrant and then dragged him outside in his underwear. The entire incident is on tape, and the department is pursuing the matter, but M. has not been charged because of a so-called "need to investigate" - even though authorities have the tape.

  M. said he's doesn't shy away from watching police conduct, however.  "I take time to stop and pay attention, to let my presence be known," he said. "The people receiving these brutalities outnumber the people who are doing it."

• B., an African-American woman who's lived in Minneapolis for only two months, has already been arrested for the first two times in her life. Moving here after losing a job, she first spent time in a homeless shelter, and one evening went for a walk to explore the city. Finding a park at about 8:30, she stopped to rest when two MPD officers arrived and one asked for her ID. "I've got to reach in my jacket to get it," she said, in a common-sense move, before reaching into her pocket. Upon looking back up, the other officer had his gun in her face. "It's like I saw my life flash before my eyes. I've never had a gun in my face before; I've never had violence around me." After she asked why he drew the gun, the officer immediately arrested her for allegedly refusing to produce the ID which was now in her hand. She was pushed to the ground, handcuffed, and taken to the jail, where she spent three days inside on a trespassing charge which was then dropped.

  A few weeks later, she was walking across a parking lot to the Salvation Army when Minneapolis police rolled by, screaming, "hands up!" B. was arrested again, her arm bruised while being thrown in the police van and her rights never read. The cop was the same one who arrested her in the park: Officer James Archer, notorious for his harassment of the homeless (and who was involved in the brutal assault of copwatcher Darryl Robinson in July). Again, B. spent three days in jail and then her charges were dismissed.

  In jail, B. talked to the seven other black women she was held with about filing complaints to internal affairs. "They'll just harass you if you do that," they said. Activists from CUAPB corroborated that experience, adding that they're now seeing cases of harassment from police after complaints to the supposedly-independent Civilian Review Authority, as well. "The police then turn around and use what you tell them against you," they said.

  Finally, on Sunday, B. was waiting for the bus downtown when a young girl approached asking her to buy cigarettes. B. refused, since the girl appeared underage, and departed. Looking back, though, she saw the girl walk away to talk confidingly with two older white women. B. feels the police are trying to set her up, and that they've been following her with the aid of the cameras near the homeless shelter. "I've never seen anything like this in my life," she said.

• Darryl Robinson, a CUAPB activist, was a plaintiff in a sucessful February 2006 class action suit against the MPD. Stemming in part from an incident in which his eardrum was broken by an officer's boot on September 11, 2001, the suit resulted in several significant policy changes affecting cameras in squad cars, the use of force against the so-called mentally ill, and police behavior towards women of color. But the policies have not always become practice.

  Three years later, last July, Robinson had just gotten back into Minneapolis after losing his father. Deciding to go copwatching at a downtown shelter (near 10th Street and 1st Avenue) to get his mind on something else, he was soon put in handcuffs, then choked, beaten savagely and knocked out - "a horrifying event." He would've been held in jail until the injuries healed if it weren't for a fellow copwatcher whom the police, including Archer and Officer Mark Lanasa, didn't see. That person alerted allies, 30-40 of whom showed up at the jail within minutes to demand and secure Robinson's release. "They didn't have a choice but to release me," Robinson says. He then went to the Hennepin County Medical Center, where his injuries were documented. When supporters also showed up at his court date on five bogus charges later last year, all the charges were dismissed before the prosecutor could even present his case.

• T. is another activist with CUAPB. He told the recent story of going to Gameworks in downtown Minneapolis for a game of pool. After asking 2 people if they'd like to play, a security guard asked him to leave. T. questioned why, but walked out of the establishment and down the Block E escalator to street level. Looking behind, he saw the guard still behind him, and asked why he was being followed. After a sarcastic remark from the guard, T. continued to walk outside and down the street, when he saw the guard was still following. "I'm here to make sure you get off the block and take your ass home," the guard growled. The guard then flagged down a passing MPD officer, who immediately threw T. in handcuffs and searched him. When asking why he was being arrested, the officer screamed, "Shut up, shut up!" and then unloaded his taser into T. "Shut the hell up and get in the car!" he screamed. T. was charged with trespassing and disorderly conduct; both charges were subsequently dismissed.
   
• "It's a double standard for people of color downtown," says R., another African American man. "We need to have cameras down there," he added, referring to the tools of copwatchers. "On Friday, Saturday and Sunday, downtown is like an in-house jail." Passing by the Hennepin Avenue rail stop last Sunday night at 12:30am, the (white) author of this article was stunned at the police presence - squads with flashing lights lining Hennepin, numerous officers on foot, and a mounted regiment with helmets standing on the light rail tracks keeping watch over the queues of mostly African Americans on Hennepin and 5th Streets. Such scenes are the norm downtown on the weekend according to R., who told of roadblocks, horses, and liberal use of mace. He recently made a point of politely asking a sargeant downtown why the police presence was so intense. "Shut the hell up," the sargeant replied.
• C., a white activist, talked about copwatching outside of the Salvation Army Harbor Light shelter, where shelter personnel are now collaborating with the MPD to enforce "trespassing" on the public sidewalk between Currie Avenue and 11th Street N. He's taken video of "employees acting as deputized police officers," working with the police to harass or cite anyone who stops for as little as 30 seconds on the sidewalk. C. related one incident in which he was threatened by a Salvation Army employee and MPD Lieutenant Dean Christianson. Holding a video camera while arguing why he was told to leave the public sidewalk, the authorities pointed to trespassing signs on the nearby fence. Lt. Christianson then said the directive for enforcement came from Dominick Bouza - the director of Harbor Light and son of former police chief Tony Bouza.

  "It's a public sidewalk; that means it's everyone's sidewalk," says C. He pointed out that as a white person, "they're not going to mess with me, but they do on a daily, hourly, minute-by-minute basis mess with people down there. ... People need to stand up for people who don't enjoy the same privilege."

• Kenya McKnight, a candidate for City Council in Ward 5 seeking to unseat Don Samuels, spoke about last weekend's Juneteenth festival, which the MPD and other city officials conspired to move from the inner-city Boom Island Park to Theodore Wirth Park at the last minute.

  "Yesterday at Juneteenth was a prime example of police brutality against young people," McKnight said before discussing the excessive force used by officers on Sunday. She faulted the MPD for sitting in the background ready to jump in and react, rather than taking a preventive approach. Shockingly, not just one but two of McKnight's campaign workers at the festival were brutalized by the MPD: bodyslammed to the ground and put in handcuffs. Speaking of young black men facing this onslaught of police repression, she said, "by any means necessary, they will do what they have to. They are fearing for their lives. If nothing is done, it will get uglier."

  McKnight mentioned the MPD's citizen academy and the Civilian Review Authority as ways for residents to be involved. "We have to police our own community ... Observe, report, and THEN engage the police."

• E., a Hmong woman, spoke about attending a celebration as a teenager when she and her friends were harassed by 5-6 MPD officers. "You little bitch," screamed MPD Sargeant Snyder, before another officer dragged E. by her throat out a set of stairs, punched her in the face, and called her derogatory names in Hmong. Outside on a cold November night, building employees allowed her back in to the celebration, where Snyder began to harass her again - assuming her parents were poor immigrants who didn't speak English. "You see this badge? This gives me the right to kick and punch you and put you in your place 'cause your parents don't at home," he said.
   
• In closing remarks, Ron Edwards, a member of the Police Community Relations Council's Unity Community Mediation Team, emphasized that the MPD has become "legendary" in North Minneapolis for using their cars to knock people down, in the manner done to Fong Lee on his bicycle. Additionally, he noted that an increasing number of officers have served in combat in Afghanistan and Iraq; in a recent training session he participated in, he said, "you could not begin to describe the kind of conversations that went on about their feelings about people of the Muslim faith."

Ultimately, it wasn't just the Minneapolis Police Department who felt the pressure on Monday night. Condemnations of white judges and politicians like R.T. Rybak, who many agreed are just as complicit in brutality as individual cops, drew cheers. "The picture is bigger than cops in the streets," said Tapia, of the Asamblea. "The whole judicial system is rotten."

On the streets, as both summer and cops' tempers heat up, copwatchers will surely have their cameras ready. Whether done by organized teams or as an impromptu action when spotting police nearby, watching and recording police behavior is a proven deterrant and accountability measure. But although anti-police sentiment appears to be growing across race lines, the resources at the city's disposal overwhelm what community organizations like those at Monday's hearing can currently muster. And for every reported case of abuse, more remain under the radar. "The numbers in [attendance] don't represent the percentage of abuse that's really going on," said one speaker at the hearing.

Regardless of whether the strategy of seeking federal receivership for the MPD succeeds, many tactics for keeping police at bay and for fighting back after incidents of brutality do exist. While violence down the hierarchy from cops to citizens raises relatively few eyebrows, violence directed at police meets widespread condemnation in the mass media and much of society at large. This power imbalance makes a diversity of tactics, starting with increased knowledge and communication about police behavior, necessary. On that note, attendees urged each other to go home and tell their family members and friends who have also experienced police misconduct to stand up and be counted. "Please let your family know," said one man, "the first step to fighting abuse is to report it and record it."