Police Violence and Public Health

In the wake of Sandy Hook, the response from physicians, and pediatricians in particular, was astounding. The tragic deaths moved doctors to address gun violence and its health consequences.

But week after week, as black boys who could be my sons and black men who could be my father, are shot and killed by police, doctors remain silent. As a pediatrician, I'm appalled.

We are watching a public health problem unfold in front of us and we aren't doing anything to stop it.

When someone is involved in a police shooting, they are at risk for injury, disability, and as we've seen, death. But those who witness the trauma may also be affected. And if they are children, that effect may follow them into adulthood.

Public police shootings turn neighborhoods into minefields where African-Americans fear suddenly finding themselves in harm's way. Those who escape the line of fire are then victimized by the ever-present fear of harassment, incarceration, injury or death.

Like the trauma experienced by war veterans, living under the threat of unprovoked police violence triggers intense emotional and physical stress, even in moments of relative safety.

The chronic stress that fear generates may place African-Americans at increased risk for health problems like heart and lung disease, and depression.

If we're going to understand and address the impact police violence has on community safety and health, particularly for communities of color who are disproportionately victimized, we have to treat it the way we treat all threats to health. That means collecting data to quantify the magnitude of the problem, developing screening guidelines to identify those at risk, training medical staff to refer those at risk of impending danger, and funding interventions that address community violence including police violence.

Tonight, too many parents will tuck their children into bed, only to worry that tomorrow, their curious 10-year-old may be the victim of a police shooting because the combination of a growth spurt and black skin threatened their life. Today, we can do better.

With a Perspective, I'm Rhea Boyd.

Rhea Boyd is a Bay Area pediatrician and child health advocate.