Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
In the wake of the shooting of Michael Brown, powerful stories came from Ferguson—both of despair and of hope. Reports of protesters and police, Molotov cocktails and tear gas filled the nightly news. As the tension mounted, politicians and journalists traveled here from miles away. Wherever you went, the conversation inevitably turned to policing tactics and our region’s deep racial divisions.
But Ferguson stayed at the heart of the discussion, and what was largely lost in all this chaos were the smaller stories about how Ferguson residents were carrying on. In mid-August, freelancer Pat Eby hung out in the neighborhood, where she often spends Saturday mornings at the farmers’ market. She wrote about how the community was putting food on the table: how the Food Pantry at St. Stephen’s Episcopal church delivered to residents after some streets were closed, how Mya Canty worked at Drake’s Place by day and attended protests at night. As Eby noted, Canty is now rethinking her career aspirations, considering a job in law enforcement or politics. “If there was more sensitivity to diversity in these places,” she said, “maybe this wouldn’t occur as often as it does.”
Today, we all must figure out how to move forward. In the October issue, SLM co-owner Ray Hartmann proposes six ways, specific steps that the region’s many municipalities and police departments can take to create tangible, lasting change. Already, at press time, the Ferguson City Council had proposed significant changes to its court system and a citizen review board to provide guidance to police.
At the same time, healing must happen between neighbors, through conversation and mutual concern. As President Barack Obama suggested in August, “Let me call once again for us to seek some understanding, rather than simply holler at each other.” It was a message similar to one he delivered five years earlier, when Sgt. James Crowley of the Cambridge Police Department mistakenly arrested Harvard University professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. Obama had invited them to resolve their differences in an informal, heart-to-heart conversation that soon became known as the Beer Summit. And while it didn’t resolve the rest of the nation’s problems, it did mark a first step toward healing between the two men.
St. Louisans need to have thousands of these candid conversations. In some ways, it’s already happening, as neighbors gather at churches, universities, and restaurants. As Cathy Jenkins, co-owner of Cathy’s Kitchen in Ferguson, told Eby, “People need a place to talk, to gather, to feel safe.”
