A Letter To Laquan McDonald

Dear Laquan,

The papers say you were a jokester, a young man who loved his family, someone who loved to give everyone a hug. The police say you were a threat, a young man who seemed “off,” someone who looked dangerous. I say you were an inspiration, a young man who defied the hardships of his upbringing to excel academically, someone who deserved a life like the rest of us. Who would you have said you were?

A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. Perhaps the most redeeming of the events was the conviction of the officer who took your life, Jason Van Dyke. Yes, he was convicted of second-degree murder and 16 counts of aggravated battery with a firearm, in fact. He was the first of his kind convicted in 50 years. One person involved in reaching this verdict was Charlene Cook, the only Black juror on the case. She fought for what was right. She fought for you. You might’ve given her a hug too if you were still here.

In her song “Very BLK,” Chicago-based singer Jamila Woods sings, “You take my brother, I fight back.” You’d be happy to know we, Chicago, fought back. We marched. We spoke out. We cried. We watched. We listened. We mourned. You were our brother, one of many killed on the streets of our beautiful, but condemned city.

I guess I’m saying all of this to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t get to experience your 18th birthday. I’m sorry that, while trying to walk away from the officer, you were shot 16 times. I’m sorry that you encountered Jason Van Dyke, who in his 14 ye  ars as a Chicago police officer had 20 excessive force complaints filed against him. I’m sorry that you were profiled. I’m sorry that your name was added to the lengthy list of other Black youths whose lives have been taken from them. Most importantly, I’m sorry that it took four years for Van Dyke to be convicted.

You’ll always be our brother, Laquan. We love you. Rest in peace.  •