On June 16, 2017, St. Anthony, Minnesota, police officer Jeronimo Yanez was acquitted of shooting Philando Castile. Castile was one of at least 963 people shot last year by a police officer. I could show you the recently released dash cam video of the shooting. I could show you the Facebook Live video of its aftermath from Diamond Reynolds, Castile’s girlfriend. But if you’re reading this then you’ve probably already seen both.

It troubles me that we as a nation have become so used to these cycles of violence and acquittal that it has become clockwork. We have come to expect no punishment for the deaths of the men, women, and children slain by those who were not in any danger; by those with some level of power or authority. We’re so accustomed to it that Yanez’s voluntary dismissal from his position seems like little more than a consolation prize.

We’ve been here before: there was no indictment for the officers who shot Tamir Rice; George Zimmerman walked after killing Trayvon Martin; hell, four New York police officers shot Amadou Diallo 41 times and they walked. Remember Freddie Gray? All six officers walked. Eric Garner? The officer who strangled him to death walked. What about Aiyana Jones or Rekia Boyd? What will happen with Charleena Lyles?

When those with authority are not punished for their transgressions, the message that is sent to those without is that their lives do not matter, and their bodies are not their own. This is the message sent to women when they are catcalled, molested, assaulted, or raped, and are forced to relive the trauma as their assailants either walk free or receive a slap on the wrist. This is the message they receive when their right to revoke sexual consent has a legal time limit. This is the message they receive as they are forced to carry pregnancies they do not want.

This is the message sent to Black, Brown, and Latino communities when their fathers, sons, and brothers are slaughtered like cattle or shepherded to prisons filled with those who look like them; when the same happens to their mothers, daughters, and sisters. This is the message that is sent to them as they are lauded for their athletic, academic, or artistic abilities while simultaneously deemed too dangerous to even be arrested for a crime they may or may not have even committed. How often must human life be reduced to a hashtag, a trending topic, digital graffiti, without consequence? How often must they be treated as both super- and sub-human?

And yet, we will continue to become accustomed to this. We will continue to be numb to it. Because we don’t expect “blind justice.” Bill Cosby and Yanez will join the ranks of Brock Turner and Zimmerman, continually reminding us that, at best, these people will receive a slap on the wrist for fear of the punishment being too harsh.

But this, too, is America.