Recently, a New York jury acquitted a white man who fatally choked a “threatening” Black homeless man on a subway car—even though the victim, struggling with mental illness, had committed no crime.
America’s racial justice pendulum has swung back with devastating force. Today’s political and cultural reality is a stark reminder that progress isn’t always permanent.
The recent acquittal of Daniel Penny in New York City for the death of Jordan Neely marks more than just another courtroom verdict—it’s a sobering milestone in our nation’s retreat from the promises made during the summer of 2020.
Four years ago, when George Floyd’s murder sparked global protests, corporate pledges, and seemingly sincere soul-searching, many believed we’d reached a turning point. Streets filled with protesters, both Black and white, young and old, demanding change. Our corporations stepped up with diversity initiatives. Our universities expanded their commitment to inclusion.
But like the brief spring of reconstruction from 1865–1877 that our ancestors knew, this moment of racial reckoning proved fleeting.
The Penny verdict tells us what many Black Atlantans already knew: the magic word “threatening” still serves as a get-out-of-jail-free card when Black lives are taken. Neely, a mentally ill homeless man, hadn’t harmed anyone. Yet his mere presence was deemed threatening enough to justify his death.
We’ve seen this script before. From Bernhard Goetz in 1984 to George Zimmerman in 2013, the defense of feeling threatened by Black presence has proved remarkably durable. What’s changed is the national appetite for confronting these uncomfortable truths.
The evidence surrounds us. Major corporations like Walmart are dismantling their DEI programs. States are restricting how we teach our history. The Supreme Court has gutted affirmative action. Everywhere you look in America, the momentum for substantive change has slowed to a crawl.
Perhaps most telling is the muted response to Neely’s death compared to Floyd’s. Where thousands once marched, now only handfuls gather. Where corporations once pledged millions, now silence reigns. The movement that promised to transform America seems to have lost its voice.
The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.
But Black Americans know something about resilience in the face of backlash. Our history in this country teaches us that progress often comes in fits and starts, that every forward leap is met with pushback, and that justice requires sustained commitment rather than momentary outrage. One of Dr. King’s most quoted words of wisdom admonishes, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”
The question facing us now isn’t whether Black lives matter—they do, irrefutably—but whether America’s conscience can be awakened once again to this fundamental truth.
