What Comes Next in Minneapolis and the USA?

Reform, Accountability, and the Civic Courage This Moment Demands

Photo (c) 2026 by Harold Michael Harvey from a carving in stone at the South Fulton Arts Center, Atlanta, Georgia

The killing of Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis has already become a national flashpoint, not only because of the violence itself, but because of what it reveals about the fragility of truth when power feels threatened.

My own experience in Hancock County, Georgia, nearly thirty years ago, taught me that this fragility is not new. It is woven into the American legal fabric, appearing whenever authority senses a challenge and the system feels compelled to choose between accountability and self-protection.

But if the first essay was about what happened, and the second about how the law bends, and the third about why escalation occurs, then this companion piece must ask a different question:

What must we do now?

Because the story cannot end on a note of outrage, it cannot end with analysis. It cannot end with grief.

This moment demands something more complex: reform, accountability, and civic courage, not as slogans, but as commitments.

Reform is needed to change the structure that makes abuse possible. Reform is not a matter of tweaking policy. It is a matter of restructuring the conditions that allow violence, distortion, and impunity to flourish. Independent investigations must be just that, independent and non-negotiable.

When federal agents kill a citizen, the investigation cannot be controlled by the same agency that pulled the trigger. Minneapolis exposed the danger of allowing federal authorities to seize evidence, restrict access, and shape the narrative before facts can breathe.

Reform requires:

  • independent state-level investigative authority
  • automatic recusal of involved agencies
  • transparent release of evidence

Without independence, justice is a performance, not a process. Local courts must be insulated from local power. Hancock County taught me that justice collapses when law enforcement and the judiciary share bloodlines, alliances, or political debts. Reform must address:

  • conflicts of interest
  • judicial selection processes
  • small‑county vulnerabilities

A courtroom cannot be a family reunion. It must be a forum for truth.

The use‑of‑force standard must be rewritten for the 21st century. The legal standard of “reasonable fear” has become a loophole wide enough to drive a tank through. Reform must redefine:

  •  What constitutes a threat
  • When deadly force is justified
  • How officer perception is evaluated

Fear cannot be the sole arbiter of life and death.

 Accountability is the most challenging work in a system built to resist it. Accountability is not punishment. It is the recognition that power must answer to the people it serves.

For instance, there must, of necessity, be narrative accountability. We must understand that before legal accountability comes narrative accountability; therefore, the willingness to confront falsehoods, distortions, and official stories that collapse under scrutiny.

In Minneapolis, the rush to label Renee Nicole Good a “terrorist” was not just rhetoric. It was an attempt to foreclose accountability before it began.

Accountability requirements include, but are not limited to:

  • challenging official narratives
  • elevating eyewitness accounts
  • refusing to let the state define the victim

Truth must not be outsourced to those with the most to lose.

Also, narrative accountability must be followed closely by institutional accountability. Institutions, like all entities, protect themselves. They always have, and perhaps, always will.

Accountability requirements include, but are not limited to:

  • civilian oversight with real power
  • consequences for obstruction
  • transparency in disciplinary processes

A system that cannot discipline itself cannot be trusted to discipline others. The inability to discipline itself is a guiding principle and trumps all others.

Lastly, there must be a sense of cultural accountability. Law enforcement culture must be confronted, not with hostility, but with honesty. The warrior mindset, the group loyalty, the reflexive escalation: these are not individual failings. They are cultural norms.

Accountability requirements include, but are not limited to:

  • training that prioritizes restraint
  • leadership that models humility
  • a shift from dominance to service

Culture is the soil from which behavior grows. As an old farm boy myself, bad soil makes cultivation a waste of time and a no-hope proposition for a productive yield.

There is one overriding salient fact. Civic courage is the ingredient without which reform fails. Reform and accountability are structural. Civic courage is personal.

Reform is the willingness of ordinary people to:

  • speak when silence is safer
  • question when obedience is expected
  • stand firm when power rushes toward them

I learned a lesson about standing firm when power rushes toward you in Hancock County when I turned around on that courthouse staircase. I am certain the Sheriff and his posse would have pushed me down that staircase and lied about having no choice but to send me tumbling down three flights of stairs.

The people of Minneapolis are learning it now as they demand answers amid federal resistance. Civic courage is not dramatic. It is steady. It is persistent. It is the refusal to let fear dictate the boundaries of justice.

There must be courage to follow the example of James Baldwin and bear witness, to be willing to tell no better than one has seen. The videos of Good’s killing exist because several people dared to record it. The truth survived because law-abiding citizens refused to look away.

There must be courage to challenge military action on U.S. soil. Reform begins when citizens challenge the systems that claim to serve them. It starts when lawyers file motions that anger sheriffs, when families demand transparency, when communities refuse to accept official stories that contradict what they saw with their own eyes.

Notwithstanding the above, the United States citizens must have the courage to imagine something better. Civic courage is not only resistance. It is imagination. The belief that a different kind of justice is possible. A justice not built on fear, not built on dominance, and not built on institutional self-protection. A justice built on truth.

There is much work ahead. The killing of Renee Nicole Good is not just a tragedy. It is a test. A test of whether we will allow the old patterns to repeat, the escalation, the narrative distortion, the institutional shielding, or whether we will insist on something better.

Reform is the blueprint. Accountability is the mechanism. Civic courage is the fuel. And if we commit to all three, then perhaps the next time power feels threatened, the reflex will not be violence, but restraint. Not distortion, but truth. Not impunity, but justice.

This moment, this precious liberty, demands nothing less.

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Published by Michael

Harold Michael Harvey is a Past President of The Gate City Bar Association and is the recipient of the Association’s R. E. Thomas Civil Rights Award. He is the author of Paper Puzzle and Justice in the Round: Essays on the American Jury System, and a two-time winner of Allvoices’ Political Pundit Prize. His work has appeared in Facing South, The Atlanta Business Journal, The Southern Christian Leadership Conference Magazine, Southern Changes Magazine, Black Colleges Nines, and Medium.