Opinion: Police Violence and Pacific Islanders

Written by: Caleb Klipowicz

On April 5th, a 16-year-old Chuukese boy named Iremamber Sykap was killed by police in Honolulu, Hawai’i. The details of the killing as reported by the Civil Beat remain unclear, and the responses online have been mixed. What is clear, however, is that this tragic loss is part of a much larger picture of police violence against minorities in the US that deserves more discussion in our communities.

Sykap’s killing is part of a terrible pattern in the US. Since the Washington Post began collecting data on police shootings, police kill over 1,000 people every year in the US. This year, some 284 people have been killed already. A closer look at the number tells another layer to this awful story: police in America disproportionately shoot and kill young people of color, especially Black men. In the two-week time-span of Sykap’s tragic death, police took at least four other young men’s lives –  Adam Toledo (13), Travon Chadwell (18), Anthony Alvarez (22) and Daunte Wright (20). Compared to Whites, police are twice as likely to kill a person of color. And while total numbers of Pacific Islanders murdered the police are not relatively high, other sources suggest that police kill more than 7 Pacific Islanders each year in the US.

In response to police violence, many Black-led activist groups have taken to the streets to lead calls to “defund” and even “abolish” the police. In 2020, groups like Black Lives Matter led marches and protests against police violence in every US state and across dozens of countries around the world. Following several high-profile police killings this year already, activists are leading protests in cities across the US, including in Northwest Arkansas. Advocates for defunding the police suggest that we can better use our tax dollars to invest in our communities, which may include hiring more social workers and other helping professionals to respond to emergency situations instead of armed police officers. They also point out that policing in America has a very dark history, beginning with armed groups of Whites hunting down runaway slaves in the past. Today, the greater numbers of Black and Brown police shooting victims, as well as the heavy military-like responses to protests against this violence, continue to uphold a society where wealthy, white people are treated better than everyone else.

Many in the ri-Majol community may be unsure where they stand on defunding the police. Policing in the RMI today began during US colonial years, leaving kajin majol with English-based words like  kalbuuj (from English “calaboose”, another word for a small jail) and bwilijmaan (from “policeman”). But many newcomers to the US would be shocked at the violent tactics and military-grade weapons that US police routinely use. At the same time, hiring Marshallese police officers in NWAR has been one way to reduce misunderstandings between police and the community, even while the state of Arkansas recently banned ri-Majol that are not US citizens from becoming police. And while COFA migrants are beginning to access tax benefits they pay into, in Northwest Arkansas a huge proportion of tax dollars still goes directly to the police. In 2019, $18.7 million of Springdales’ city budget.

went to police, up $3 million from 2015. Put another way, 30 cents of every tax dollar spent went to police alone. What if we spent that money in other ways to help our communities? What if instead of more guns, tasers, and military vehicles, we hired more social workers and translators, or offered more rent and utility assistance for struggling families?

In many ways, I recognize that I am the last person who should be leading discussions about why we should start to rethink police in our communities. As a White, American citizen, I know that I am likely to be stopped by police, and far, far less likely to be killed than our Black and Brown neighbors. But since last summer, I have joined local marches and started to really listen to the voices of people who have lost their loved ones to police violence.

As Iremamber’s family mourns, I hope that more Pacific Islander communities will begin conversations about their experiences with police, both good and bad, and join us in re-imagining ways to make communities that are safe for all of us.

You can send financial support to Iremamber’s funeral costs by sending donations to @Wenana-Angang on the Venmo app.