*UPDATE* Surdyk’s was fined $2000 and will have their license suspended for the first 30 days that Sunday sales are allowed. It is good to see them held accountable for their actions, but the punishment does not target the real culprit(s). Given the testimony highlighted in the original post (and reiterated here) it is quite possible for a single liquor store to generate $3000 – 5000 on a single Sunday – and that was 2 years ago in Tower, MN. In that context, the fine is more a pat on the back than a slap on the wrist. The 30 license suspension is unjust because it disproportionally punishes the innocent workers to the benefit of the law-breaking bosses. Taken together, these repercussions reinforce the main point of the original post because they confirm the privilege of Jim Surdyk to use his workers as surrogates for the legal penalties incurred by his flaunting of the law. The simplest solution is to increase the fine to an amount that would cover the pay of the workers during the 30 day suspension and give it to them.
Yesterday, March 12, 2017, Surdyk’s Liquor store provided a great example of how white, wealthy privilege works in the state of Minnesota and the city of Minneapolis. They wantonly flaunted the law and suffered little to no repercussions – yet. According to the MPR story playing as I write this morning, local authorities are looking into whether and how the law-breakers will be held to account. Apparently, it takes time to bust a criminal operation that advertised their intent to break the law on social media. Had the police shown such deference on November 15, 2015, Jamar Clark would still be alive.
If you haven’t been following the Sunday Sales story, let me catch you up. On February 20, 2017 the Minnesota Legislature finally repealed the out-dated Blue Laws that barred off-sale of alcohol in the State, and Governor Dayton signed the bill into law a few days later. Like any other law change, it did not go into effect immediately. It will go into effect on July 2, 2017. To be fully transparent and honest, I was a strong supporter of this bill. I donated my video resources and skills to help MN Beer Activists and Sunday Sales MN to advocate for it. I took some pride when the law was changed. Not because I think my efforts tipped the balance, but because I felt that my support had encouraged the activists that did the heavy lifting. I realized then and admit now that the “right” to buy booze on Sunday is a relatively minor issue, but was a good idea and I was in a position to help, so I did.
Since that time, I have become more aware of far more egregious violations of civil rights, such as the summary execution of my fellow human beings in the streets of Minneapolis and other municipalities across the nation. These are not minor issues. To be fully transparent and honest, I was able to overlook such atrocities for most of my life because our society affords me the privilege to do so. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done a lot of protesting. I marched against nukes in the’80s. I rallied against war in the ’90s. I organized Teach-Ins to educate about US imperialism in Central and South America in the era of “low intensity conflict”. I railed against CIA complicity with drug cartels and their role in the crack epidemic. I was picking up tear gas canisters and throwing them back at the cops in Seattle when we confronted the WTO in 1999. I managed to slip past the police line in 2008 when the cops blocked escape routes in St. Paul, MN and attacked us with tear gas and flash bangs. I was a good radical putting my body on the line for what was right. Then I woke up. When Mike Brown was murdered in the streets of Ferguson, MO, I realized that it was not necessary to look outside the US to find violent repression by the so-called government. When Marcus Golden was gunned down by St. Paul police in January of 2015 and Jamar Clark was executed in Minneapolis just 10 months later, I began to understand that the police state was as locally sourced as the veggies in my CSA box. The few moments I spent at the 4th precinct occupation in north Minneapolis brought it all into focus. I am forever indebted to the people that organized and maintained that action because it renewed my spirit and brought me, camera in hand, back to the streets.
That is the lens through which I see the illegal actions of Surdyk’s yesterday. While many slam them for the hypocrisy of taking illegal advantage of a law they fought against, their price-gouging, and their wanton disregard for other liquor dealers, I am struck by the slow, mild response of the police state to such flagrant law-breaking. Can you imagine the state of Surdyk’s store-front or the fate of the owners if they were treated with the same snap judgement and heavy hand that left Philando Castile dead? Where Philando was shot 7 times within 2 minutes after being stopped for a broken tail light, the police have yet to take any action more than 24 hours after Surdyk’s profited from their illegal activity. Does that mean I want to see Surdyk’s burnt down and the owners murdered? Of course not. I want the police to show the same kind of thoughtful, even-handed approach toward the next Philando, Marcus, Michael, Sandra, Trayvon, or Jamar. It is only for their wealth and privilege that the folks at Surdyk’s were not been rounded up at locked down within a few hours of committing their crime. That is privilege in action.