What Would Justice for Laquan McDonald Look Like?

The protesters outside Chicago's Leighton Criminal Court Building say they want only one thing: justice for Laquan.
They've carried signs, waved flags, shouted into microphones, huddled in prayer. Inside, a white Chicago police officer is on trial for the fatal shooting of the black teenager.
What would justice for Laquan McDonald look like?
Chicagoans — all of us — must think hard about that as jurors deliberate the case against Jason Van Dyke, who fired 16 shots at McDonald as he walked away from police officers, carrying a knife and ignoring their orders to stop.
In closing arguments on Thursday, prosecutor Jody Gleason said the shooting was not justified."Not the first shot," she said."Certainly not the 16th shot."
Defence attorney Daniel Herbert said the officer is not guilty because he responded out of fear for his safety. He blamed a menacing McDonald and"an overzealous prosecutor."
Van Dyke is charged with two counts of first-degree murder, 16 counts of aggravated battery — one for each bullet — and one count of official misconduct.
Judge Vincent Gaughan's instructions to jurors offer a middle ground: They could find Van Dyke guilty of second-degree murder, meaning they believe he was afraid for his safety but that his fear was unreasonable.
It could be a welcome compromise for conflicted jurors faced with a momentous decision.
The job is to decide whether Van Dyke is guilty of a crime, period. They must base that decision on evidence presented in the courtroom, period. We trust that they will.
But like it or not, their verdict will send a message to a community that has been on edge since the release of a graphic police video of the shooting.
That was evident in the words of activists who said that they'd be satisfied only with a conviction that had the word"murder" in it — even though a conviction for aggravated battery could come with a stiffer penalty than second-degree murder.
"Anything less than a murder conviction, we ask people immediately to take to the streets and stand in solidarity with us," activist William Calloway said.
The Rev Gregory Livingston, pastor at New Hope Baptist Church, framed the trial as"black Chicago versus the Chicago Police Department."
"What it's symbolic of is the unequal application of justice that has existed in Chicago in the black community," Livingston said."So even though he's a police officer, what has to happen here in order for the black community to have some sense of justice is that no one is seen to be above the law."
We get that. Chicago has a disgraceful record of failing to hold police accountable for misconduct, including unreasonable force against minorities.
A functional disciplinary system would have flagged Van Dyke as a problem officer in need of intervention. He had been named in 17 citizen complaints, three of them alleging excessive force, but never disciplined for any of them.
The video of the shooting — released by a judge's order — inflamed the public, not just because of the searing images but also because City Hall had fought hard to keep it secret. That raw anger forced a painful examination of Chicago's failure to police its Police Department.
It exposed the complicity of supervisors, the oversight apparatus and politicians past and present. It led to a fitful process that could yield lasting reforms — if our collective resolve doesn't falter.
This trial, though, is about Van Dyke — the first Chicago cop in nearly 35 years to be charged with first-degree murder for an on-duty fatality. Jurors must determine his guilt or innocence. It's a big ask.
But their decision won't fix the police disciplinary system. It won't eradicate the code of silence. It won't ensure that police officers get the training and support they need to do their dangerous jobs.
Whatever the verdict, justice won't be served until those things are addressed.
That responsibility doesn't belong to a jury. It belongs to all of us.