The University police have been under considerable fire for some time now. Criticism about the force has been easy to find. The police have been found spying on UNC students. They have spent large amounts of money protecting Silent Sam. They’ve pepper sprayed protesters.
It is easy, then, to understand why there has been such vitriol leveled at the police. There has been a protest specifically decrying the perceived brutality that the UNC police force has used at campus protests. The chant, “Police and Klan go hand in hand,” has been often heard at protests.
There’s even been criticism of an officer who displayed an “anti-government” tattoo on his arm during a protest. Perhaps there is legitimate criticism of the police to be made. At the very least, the deployment of an undercover cop to a group of students might be characterized as bemusing. At worst, nefarious.
Language matters. The decision to use a particular word to describe someone can have legitimate consequences. The word “Nazi” has legitimate power. Calling a person a Nazi implies that they are the type of person who is capable of taking a group of crying men, women and children out into a field and shooting them. Or, at least, that is what calling someone a Nazi could mean.
The fact is that words and phrases such as “police brutality," “Nazi” and “Klu Klux Klan” have legitimate power. They provide incredibly real and brutal recollections of history. The memories of the most evil tendencies of humanity are dredged up with such usage. Attaching them to a person or an organization is a powerful move with wide-ranging consequences.
Yet, the impact of words can change. The meaning of our language can change. A word once used to describe a bundle of sticks now is a highly offensive word used to identify gay and lesbian individuals.
Calling someone a communist no longer matters as much as it did during the Cold War. Implying our local police force, of which nearly a quarter is Black according to the Town, are Klan sympathizers means that the term “Klan” might no longer provide the impact that it did before you used it in the first place.
At the Battle of Bunker Hill, one of the first real battles in the Revolutionary War, American commanders told their men to hold their fire until they could see the whites of the British eyes. The American powder supply was limited and the generals wanted to ensure that every shot fired from their side was maximally effective. Those that fired early were chastised — even if their shots found a mark.
Your powder supply is limited. Use it wisely.
