By the time I heard a local activist leader shout that he had brought a group of protesters outside my house to make my children, wife, and neighbors “uncomfortable,” I had mostly given up on the idea that meaningful systemic changes would come out of the movement sparked by the brutal murder of George Floyd.
I am an African American man who grew up in rough neighborhoods in Dallas during the most violent period of our nation’s history. Before I became mayor, I had successfully pushed for police accountability measures and expanded educational opportunities during my nine years in the Texas Legislature. I was raising two Black boys in America (and have added a daughter since then). I was horrified by the death of George Floyd. And Michael Garner. And Philando Castile. And Tamir Rice. And Michael Brown. And on and on.
But like many of my fellow mayors across the country, I had become the enemy because I didn’t believe in slashing the budget of our police department — which had already shrunk by hundreds of officers during the previous five years — amid staggering increases in violent crime in Dallas.
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