Having spent my entire career involved with law enforcement, and knowing firsthand the experience of being black in America, I believe that two seemingly contradictory truths apply to police-action shootings in which black lives are extinguished.

First, based on our country’s history, I believe black Americans’ reflexive feelings of suspicion following these incidents are entirely valid.

Second, I believe that most police-action shootings are justified by the circumstances faced by officers.

These thoughts are prompted by recent events in South Bend, Indiana, which is 15 miles west of my hometown. South Bend residents are experiencing a number of raw emotions following the June 16 police-action shooting of a 54-year-old black man. A body camera worn by the white officer who fired the fatal shots was never activated. And the entire incident is being amplified on the national stage due to the presidential candidacy of the city’s mayor, Pete Buttigieg.

Like everyone else should be doing, I am awaiting the results of an investigation before passing any judgment on this particular incident. Nothing I say here should be construed as a commentary on the appropriateness of the use of deadly force in this specific instance.

In the United States, there were 229 black individuals — of 992 total — shot and killed by police in 2018, according to a tally kept by the Washington Post. So while blacks make up approximately 13% of the U.S. population, they make up 23% of those shot and killed by police. They also make up 35% of the U.S. prison population.

The reason that many black people harbor suspicions regarding such disparities is that black lives historically have not always seemed to or been deemed to matter. America has a long legacy of racial injustice, from the horrors of slavery to the harsh discrimination that persisted over the years that followed, including mob lynchings and other unspeakable crimes that the justice system too often ignored. The dehumanizing segregation of Jim Crow defined the lives of blacks even in the 20th century. Fairness and justice were all but absent.

Again, it seemed that the lives of blacks did not matter.

Some might say that’s all in the past. They might advise that we should “just move on” because “all lives matter.” But those making that suggestion seldom know what it’s like to possess DNA into which is woven the historical African American experience.

A history of racial injustice, however, does not make all police-action shootings involving black suspects into examples of racism. Most police-action shootings are justified based upon the circumstances encountered by officers. Usually, investigations reveal that officers acted to protect themselves or others from legitimate threats to their lives. In a free society that promotes justice and accountability, police are necessary. We train our police in the reasonable use of force. We provide each officer with a badge and a gun and expect them all to keep us safe, even if it costs them their lives. And sometimes it does.

When an officer shoots, we should presume that the shooting is justified because that is the job we have asked him or her to do. At the same time, we also must conduct an investigation to confirm that the use of lethal force was justified. No amount of training adequately prepares officers for every potential encounter, and sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes officers accidentally make wrong decisions; other times officers intentionally commit crimes. If a thorough investigation proves an officer was not justified, then the officer must face consequences — including arrest and prosecution when warranted.

But what about the disproportionate number of blacks who are shot and killed? It’s so easy to simply blame racism. But there’s much more to the story.

Consider: Half of all murder victims in the United States are black, but 90% of the assailants in those cases are also black. These homicides devastating the black community cannot be attributed to racism alone.

There is a disproportionate number of blacks in prison (and getting shot) because a disproportionate number of blacks are socially and economically disadvantaged, living in high-crime areas that are more consistently targeted by police for that very reason. In the age of proactive policing, police departments all over the country put their cops where crime is most likely to occur.

In the aftermath of a police-action shooting, no one benefits from an immediate rush to judgment or sacrificing a police officer’s career solely to quiet the crowd. Doing what’s right generally requires cool reflection rather knee-jerk reaction. Justice requires truth that is fair and transparent.

In South Bend, and all across the nation, Americans must work together to transcend our differences, born of diverse personal histories and experiences. We must learn to trust one another and to trust our civil institutions, such as our police agencies and criminal justice system. Trust begins with relationships. The black community and police must know one another, talk to one another and learn from each other.

Community members in the civilian ranks have roles to play. Here in the Hoosier State, a shining example can be seen in the work of the TenPoint Coalition. In cities such as Fort Wayne and Indianapolis, the members of this group venture out on a near-daily basis into designated neighborhoods that have been plagued by violence. They mingle with residents, get to know their issues and look for ways to intervene when they see trouble brewing. They help connect people with educational resources, job opportunities, substance abuse programs and other pathways to brighter futures.

Notably, they serve as liaisons between residents and local police, helping forge stronger bonds between neighborhoods and law enforcement. This boots-on-the-ground approach, real involvement with real people, has paid huge dividends in making a measurable difference in reducing crime and forging understanding. As attorney general, I have initiated grant opportunities to develop additional TenPoint chapters across the state, in places where it is most needed.

In August of 2017, I joined Rev. Charles Harrison of the TenPoint Coalition at a meeting with representatives of the South Bend community, including Mayor Buttigieg’s office. In discussing ways to deal with pockets of violence in that city, we offered to partner with the community to establish a TenPoint Coalition initiative. Although the meeting did not produce community interest in applying for a TenPoint grant, we remain optimistic that the TenPoint model could benefit South Bend neighborhoods.

Constructive dialogue takes work, but it helps us move toward mutual understandings that make our nation stronger. It helps us reconcile contradictory truths pertaining to race relations in America. Here in Indiana, we have a model that is working, and we will share it with the South Bend community and all others desiring to move past the violence.

Curtis Hill, a Republican, is Indiana’s attorney general.