Readers Write (July 17): Vikings stadium; race relations and policing, policy, practices, history

The July 10 article "As stadium opens, Vikings and city sail into a new era" was excellent, updating the huge development the stadium has inspired in Downtown East and reviewing the history of the effort to accomplish its location and financing. I'm very much in favor of the stadium and am confident it is a very valuable addition to Minnesota, but I want to point out a key detail recalled in the article ­­— that "team owners Zygi and Mark Wilf agreed to increase their contribution by $50 million" the night the bill passed the Minnesota House at 4 a.m. That illustrates to me how lucrative this stadium is for the Wilfs.

There is much criticism of poor negotiating skills by legislators compared with the obvious great experience and success of the Wilfs. I'm reminded of a lesson my father, Hal Naftalin, taught me: "When a person with money meets a person with experience, the person with the experience usually winds up with the money and the person with the money winds up with the experience." With more-skilled negotiators, I believe the state could have retained the revenue from the sale of the naming rights.

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I wonder what percentage of the state taxpayers contributing $348 million for U.S. Bank Stadium will be able to afford a game or simply are not interested in football? I, for one, feel cheated when I see that embarrassing building that dwarfs the pretty skyline we used to have.

The recent racial unrest has weighed on me, and I've pondered what difference I — a middle-aged white woman — might be able to make on such a compelling and complex scenario. I am horrified by the young black man's reality in America. I also fear the anarchy that waits in the wings when law enforcement is painted in one broad brush stroke of untrustworthiness. I find myself looking for ways to bridge the divide.

The July 13 commentary "Do something of impact with your white privilege" condemns my concern as being inadequate, and I must admit that I agree. I also fully agree with the writer that "African-Americans remain marginalized."

Where he loses me is in his broad-brushing of "white people [who] voraciously boast about how much they care about lives of color, but the reality could not be further from the truth." His anger, characterization and condemnation of white people who live in "gentrified places" frightens me — much like I imagine young black men feel frightened by being unfairly stereotyped.

As a 41-year veteran of law enforcement, years that I have proudly spent with the Minneapolis Police Department, I would like to add my two cents to the conversation on race, the police, use of force, and modern-day politics in our country. I would like to begin by stating that I have no allegiance to any political regime. My only allegiance belongs to the people of this great country. Every day when we don our uniforms, our mission is to simply protect and serve everyone.

Every contact we have with the public could be as simple as giving directions or as complex as having to take a human life. Race has absolutely nothing to do with the decisions we make on a daily basis; people who know nothing about my fellow officers and me will disagree, but the vast majority of the time such disagreement is for some political agenda, which has nothing to do with real justice.

Every high-profile incident over the last two years in which a police officer has had to take the life of a black male has had its unique set of circumstances. Every time a police officer has to use deadly force, the incident is reviewed by multiple agencies and, because of transparency, the entire world. To gather and analyze all of the facts takes time. We do not live in a society where justice is instant. Instant justice is called "vigilantism." Those who demand instant justice should look at history and see how it negatively affected groups of people.

All politicians, from City Council members to the president, take an oath to uphold the Constitution and laws of the United States; if they cannot do this, then they should resign and find a place of employment that better fits their ideals. As police officers, we take the same oath; even if there are parts of the Constitution or laws with which we do not agree, we still abide by them. Simply put, that is the difference between a "just society" and anarchy.

We read that lack of transit is a big detriment for people without transportation to get to jobs ("Study says transit limits job options," July 12). We want people to work, but we make it very difficult to get to jobs. We make it difficult for employers to hire the people they need.

I call on the governor and legislators to get back to work and at least pass a bonding bill so we can move forward with transportation funding. It is irresponsible to do nothing.

Regarding the "True North" (back) page of the July 10 Variety section: Cute photos — every single one was adorable. But look at the whole page. What's wrong with this picture? Isn't this page telling people of color: "You're not part of us. You may live here and work here and contribute here, but you're not part of our white culture." Surely there must have been a few submissions of cute little black and brown and beige children eating ice cream, enjoying the treats of summer. Surely, the newspaper could have made the page reflect our whole community. It's a small thing, but it's the accretions of the small things that add up to big things. Black lives matter.

Since the recent and ongoing police violence toward black Americans and the violent response in Dallas, none of the media coverage, punditry, talk-show discussions or sermons from pulpits have referred to our undeniable cultures of violence and racism in America. We always focus on the individual and the tragedy in isolation, failing to acknowledge the larger historical context. From the very beginning, slavery defined us and defines us still. Manifest destiny and the genocide of Native Americans defined us and define us still. Literally hundreds of violent military interventions abroad have defined us and as they continue today, they define us throughout the world. The labor and immigrant wars, rooted in bigotry, defined us and continue today in the highest levels of political discourse. Indeed, our lexicon defines us — the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on science, the war on crime and the war on terror; we see a problem, we declare war on it. And so we wind up disrupting and destabilizing dictators and democracies alike (more of the latter) and killing thousands by invisible drone warfare without even aaking "are they guilty of anything?" The rhetoric about our greatness and goodness with which we're inundated almost daily doesn't fool the rest of the world; people around the world rank us the most-feared country and the greatest threat to world peace — not Russia, not China, not even ISIL, but us, America.

It's about time we come to terms with our past. Only truth and reconciliation, with reparations, can turn our culture of violence toward empathy and peace. And amid all the slaughter here and abroad, our Nobel Peace Prize president, trapped in the culture of violence, is too busy managing his drone warfare project to do anything but spout the same old platitudes over and over and over again.