On New Year’s Day in Oakland, a bullet seared through the back of unarmed 22-year-old Oscar Grant III, point-blank out of the barrel of an officer sworn to serve and protect. Mr. Grant died instantly, prostrate in the universal “I Surrender” position, the officer’s knee smashing his neck into cement. Police supporters claim that Grant was harassing another train passenger. Supposedly the officer who fired the shot thought he was using a taser.

But the situation didn’t call for a firearm of any kind, and neither claim can justify the cold-blooded murder. More importantly, the execution of Oscar Grant is not an isolated incident. It is one slice out of a contemporary history of racism against minorities by law enforcement officers. Systemic racism is as American as apple pie.

Perhaps it was some kind of accident, but those who frame the incident as isolated ignore the bigger picture. Citizens should ask what causes a cop—not in jeopardy of his own life—to make that split-second decision to fire. The general mentality of police regarding crime fighting, distrust within communities, and a culture of fear across the nation regarding minority males should be factored in. Racism in law enforcement is an ugly reality and most people, especially supposedly sympathetic liberals, shield their eyes from it. We do not live in an impartial system marred by a few occasional sound bites worth of errors in judgment. We are far from a color-blind Canaan flowing with milk and honey.

Since 9/11, most statistics on race and police reports have been made exempt from public disclosure. The last available large-scale study was a 1999 Bureau of Justice Statistics report: “Use of Force By Police: Overview of National and Local Data.” This comparative study of arrests in Miami-Dade County and Eugene, Oregon, found that in all use-of-force incidents in which the officers used a chemical agent, baton, gun, or other special weapons, 57 percent of the suspects were black, 28 percent were Latino, and only 15 percent were white. More recent studies by the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) also found that blacks and Latinos suffer much more from excessive force than whites.

In a system of checks and balances, there is limited oversight over the only body authorized to exercise lethal force upon citizens. In a study by the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Northwestern University sociologist Wesley Skogan notes that decentralization and officer discretion have been the trends of police organization over the last eight years. Sixty percent of officers admit to not reporting serious abuse of authority by their colleagues: little can break the “Blue Code of Silence.” Unfortunately, officers are not just blue, but black, brown, white, yellow, and red. So who challenges abuse when the colors don’t paint a pretty picture? Legislation like the California Peace Officer’s Bill of Rights seals records against public scrutiny.

This lack of oversight juxtaposes a high number of abuses over the years, many of which have been forgotten. In 1994, 29-year-old Anthony Báez was strangled by an NYPD officer after refusing to leave the street in front of his home where he was playing football with his little brother. In June 2007, Michael Tarif and Evelyn Warren, human rights attorneys, were themselves assaulted when they attempted to help a young black man who was being beaten by the cops. Oscar Grant’s murder is part of a long history that calls far higher degree of accountability.

History has created a culture of distrust between communities and cops. The response to the shooting revives the sentiments of almost 40 years ago, when the Black Panther Party was founded in Oakland to defend against police brutality. Many minorities—especially black males—are raised to be completely submissive to police officers, not out of respect for authority, but for fear of their lives. Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates notes: “If you wonder why blacks seem particularly susceptible to ‘rumors’ and ‘conspiracy theories,’ you might take a look at a history in which the official story was a poor guide to anything that mattered much, and in which rumor sometimes verged on the truth...as ‘older blacks like to repeat,’ when ‘white folks say “justice,” they mean ‘just us.’”

This is not a simplistic “us versus them” situation. If disadvantaged minority communities are to make headway, they must fight internal crime, testify against murderers and drug dealers, and collaborate on neighborhood security, including forming organizations to monitor both street gangs and police behavior. But just as minority communities cannot pin everything on the system, police departments must stop perpetuating the idea that they are the “thin blue line” between all that is good and evil. Police must be subject to more substantial review by federal agencies such as the FBI, and police unions must allow administrators to question accused officers. Crime-fighting is only one part of a multifaceted job: Community crime prevention and defense of individual liberties are also part of the contract.

The murder of Oscar Grant is only one piece of a history of systemic racism by law enforcement. Moreover, it is important to realize that many people in this country still routinely combat crime, illiteracy, poverty, and despair on a daily basis. In an era in which a black president is a sign of hope but not a sign of deliverance, we must not discard the politics of emancipation.

Raúl A. Carrillo ’10, a Crimson editorial writer, is a social studies concentrator in Lowell House. He is president of the Harvard College Latino Men’s Collective. Jarell L. Lee ’10, a joint sociology and African and African-American studies concentrator, lives in Lowell House. He is executive director of the Boston Black Student Network (BBSN).