There is a plethora of evidence and data to corroborate these facts. In 2014, Dr. Ersula Ore was arrested for jaywalking as she headed home from the classes she taught at Arizona State University. When she refused to show the officer her identification and demanded to be treated with respect, she was handcuffed and thrown to the pavement—leaving her skirt up and exposed to everyone who was nearby. What’s important to note here is that the officer threatens to slam her on to the patrol car while he is trying to handcuff her, and when she reminds him that she has on a dress, he says he doesn’t care. She then kicks the officer. It is then that she is thrown to the ground. She is later charged with resisting arrest and, after pleading guilty, receives nine months probation.

Surely, there are those out there who believe that Ore is at fault for her own arrest. However, let’s remember that this was originally a jaywalking stop (which in itself is ridiculous since she was walking in the street to avoid construction on campus). How does a jaywalking stop end up in an officer’s need to violently handcuff a woman, ignore her reminder that she is wearing clothes in which her genital area can be exposed, and then toss her to the ground? Simple, she’s black. And there is little regard for the safety, well-being and privacy of a black woman and her body. As for the kick, lots of women would be tempted to pull and kick if an officer were about to throw them on a squad car and expose their body to the public. It is a perfectly natural reaction, as quite a lot of women have had the experience of unwanted groping and touching by men. Its says less about Ore and more about society that we are expected to take abuse and that this is seen as acceptable behavior because it came from a police officer.

But wait, there’s more. In 2015, an officer came to a private pool party in McKinney, Tex., when residents called police to complain that the party had gotten out of control. Cpl. Eric Casebolt responded to the call and was caught on video chasing down black teenagers like he’s in some kind of action movie, waving his gun at them and then proceeding to pin down 15-year-old Dajerria Becton, who appears to be doing nothing, while she was in her bathing suit.

This is how Dajerria describes what happened as written in Dallas News.

She told a court that Casebolt approached her with his baton raised, grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her down, pulling her hair as he slammed her face into the grass. She described how Casebolt pinned her down with one knee on her back and one on her neck. Casebolt repeatedly grabbed the back of Dajerria's head and forced her face down, remaining on top of her for several minutes, according to the complaint. Dajerria told the court that Casebolt handcuffed her even though she was following his commands.

It is no accident that Casebolt responded with such force against this young woman. Again, it is reflective of a long standing pattern of police violence against black women. It is also no accident that he had little regard for the fact that she was not fully clothed and that her bathing suit could have easily come undone while he was assaulting her. And while we know he didn’t care, we also know that that kind of treatment would rarely be directed at a white woman in a bikini.

Aggression against black women has gone even further in recent years. In 2016, police officer Daniel Holtzclaw was sentenced to 263 years for raping and sexually assaulting 13 black women in Oklahoma in the very community that he patrolled. According to Buzzfeed, prosecutors suspect that Holtzclaw intentionally sought out these women because he knew they’d likely not report him and that they wouldn’t be believed.

According to prosecutors, Holtzclaw targeted these women because they had records and lived in a high-crime neighborhood. He allegedly chose them because they didn’t want any trouble and because they feared the police — because they likely wouldn’t report their assaults to the police. He was the police. According to the defense, these women are drug abusers and sex workers — some convicted felons with histories of lying to the police. Sometimes their testimonies are inconsistent, the defense said; they have “agendas,” they’re lying. Holtzclaw’s attorney built his defense on this approach: focusing on the character of the women and the reliability of their testimony.

These are just the horrific stories from the past few years. If you look back several decades, you will find many other examples of police abusing their power with black women resulting in sexual violence and assault. In her book At the Dark End of the Street, Danielle L. McGuire details this history and explains the legacy of black women’s anti-rape activism—connecting it to the civil rights movement. She also details Rosa Parks’s work as an investigator and organizer for the NAACP. Parks launched an investigation into the rape of Recy Taylor by six white men back in 1944, more than a decade before Parks’s actions sparked the Montgomery bus boycott.

In 2018, it is significant, not only that Chikesia Clemons was arrested for something so benign as asking for the number of management at a restaurant, but also that she was manhandled so viciously that her shirt came down, exposing her chest in public. This has become routine behavior for the police, very often white men, who have a long history of sexual abuse directed toward black women. This is not just about racial injustice. In the wake of the Me Too movement, this is our opportunity to honestly confront how race and gender intersect and the resulting normalization of sexual violence against black women and girls, particularly in the criminal justice system. This is distinct from police violence in general and needs specific attention and redress.

As Brittany Packnett eloquently writes in The Cut, who will stand up for Chikesia Clemons? Who will stand up for other black women like her?

[So] far, the public response on Chikesia’s behalf has been far more quiet. There’s been less media coverage, and Waffle House has released just a single statement essentially telling us all to “wait and see,” as though the video didn’t show plenty. Will America allow the suffering of black women to go unchecked, when we are leading the fight for so many others? Want to thank black women for defeating Roy Moore? For voting against Donald Trump? Protect us. Support us. Demand justice for Chikesia.

We need justice for the black women who are continually harmed by police. The very same ones who keep doing the right thing by America in society and in the voting booth. Anything less than our full commitment to this issue, particularly by progressives, is negligence and hypocrisy.