There is unrest in Charlotte because of what we know.
We know that the law, as written and enforced, cannot protect us from police violence.
We know Darryl Hunt and Henry McCollum, two in a long list of African-American men wrongfully convicted in this state.
We know our criminal justice system does not function to protect black life, but to control it.
We also know, since the Supreme Court upheld a lower court's ruling on August 31st, that Governor Pat McCrory, former mayor of Charlotte, targeted African-Americans with "almost surgical precision" when he signed a 2013 voter suppression bill. When the highest court in the land declared the law intentionally racist, McCrory made no apology. His party's chairman doubled-down by trying to use the state Board of Elections to limit the number of polling places in areas where African-Americans generally vote.
We know that, despite the fact that it would benefit more poor white people than African Americans, our legislature has refused to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, denying health insurance to the most vulnerable among us, simply because they don't like a black man in the White House.
We know that, while 56 percent of African-American workers make less than a living wage, Governor McCrory signed the mean-spirited HB2, which not only writes discrimination into state law but also forbids municipalities from passing a living wage ordinance or even measures to protect children in the workplace.
We know that our legislature, while touting an average increase in teacher pay, reduced total funding for public education and supported policies designed to undercut schools like the one Keith Scott's son was coming home from on the bus when he lost his daddy.
We know that they increasingly funnel public money to private academies, which lend themselves to the resegregation of public education, even though we know segregation hurts poor kids.