It doesn’t matter who Renee Good was.

Do you remember the rise of reality TV? American Idol, Next Top Model, Big Brother; shows that had a clear premise of talent or attitude but had a powerful pull of who had the best back story. Tears and strife, dirt dug and skeletons released to sway the outcome from the purpose. Narration plays a big role in how we decide things. The better man doesn’t always win, and justice isn’t always served because of the stories we tell.

Both the Left and the Right are telling tales right now. She was a good mom, a champion of democracy, mild, meek and confused versus the ranting lunatic. The one where she doesn’t belong, defying justice, her kids removed and her ideals depraved. She might be either of these things, or neither. That is for her loved ones to grapple with, that legacy is not the story for the people.

The only narrative that comes into play when we look at whether that officer’s actions were right or wrong is the knowledge privy to that officer in the moment of the shooting. That officer didn’t know she was a mother, or a woman who allegedly burned her children with cigarettes. His job was to look at the facts presented in that moment.

We have a woman in a vehicle; she doesn’t seem hostile, but she is not compliant either. Encounters with ICE agents have been escalating and tempers run rampant on both sides. I am, for the sake of argument going to grant the officer the benefit of the doubt on the first shot. Not that I am saying Rene was purposefully trying to hurt or kill him, but that the tension in the situation was high, and though the tires were turned, that is a hindsight call and he may have reacted out of fear. We then have to look at the other two shots, where he is clearly out of the danger zone. Does he have reason to believe she is a danger to the public? Rabid and immediate action is required to protect the innocent? We can’t know what was in the officer’s head, but we know this was not a hostage situation, not an immediate danger to the public person.

People with firearms are expected to act with restraint and use force only in needed situations, if they act out of fear or an overflow of emotion there are repercussions, starting with removal of authority down to criminal charges depending on circumstance.

Relying on hindsight to justify or condemn actions is a blueprint to chaos. It allows the perpetrator to build a narrative after the fact. It means anyone of us could have our closets aired for justification rather than justice.

As an example, lets say a man is finding himself preoccupied with thoughts of murder. His urges are escalating and he has started to stalk truck stops at night, with no clear intention but a relentlessness that scares even himself. One night he sees a man parked in a far dark corner of the lot, alone and vulnerable. He acts, and brutally, sadistically kills this lone man. We later learn the victim was a pedophile with a child at home, he tortured regularly. A man whose hand wrought pain and blood. Does this make our murderers actions better? Do we hold him less criminally responsible?

Of course not. He would have killed anyone, and the redemption in the act is irrelevant to the forces that caused it. Our murderer is likely to kill again and it may not be good for the world next time.

Our question cannot be was Renee Good a good person. Furthermore, it is not a question of Left or Right. Our question is, about the power of authority. How do we grant it, how do we contain it, and how do we deal with the problem of human emotions in real-world situations?

My condolences to the family of Renee Good. I am in no way commenting on who she was.

Dad says I’m too old for a nightlight, but mom packs it anyway. She knows my bi-weekly forays are scary, new sounds, and little sleep. I plug it in after he says goodnight and hide it before he wakes.

Tonight it’s missing. Tears bite my eyes as I unpack. Dad is watching. He’ll call me a baby if he sees. I say nothing.

Tucked in bed, I toss and fret. Fear like bubbles, shame like cement. His steps pause outside my door. For the first time, the hall light comes on and stays on. I fall asleep, safe and warm.

The NYC microfiction starts tomorrow, so a little practice to start.

I enjoyed this story by fellow Medium writer. Please check ot out.

Read stories from Ted Anthony on Medium: https://anthonyted.medium.com