George Floyd’s murder trial result was met with relief in Minneapolis. But the fight for justice has only just begun

Alvin Manago could only handle watching the trial of former police officer Derek Chauvin in bits and pieces.

The prosecution’s arguments featured long, graphic clips of George Floyd’s murder, and Mr Manago hadn’t seen video of his roommate’s death since the morning a reporter knocked on his door and asked if he could verify Mr Floyd’s identity.

But when Mr Manago heard that the jury had reached a verdict, he caught the bus down to the Hennepin County Courthouse.

Hundreds of local residents, activists and journalists had the same impulse to gather there. They wanted to take in the moment in the way they had first experienced Floyd’s death: by watching a video, then processing it with a crowd.

By the third verdict — guilty on all charges — a switch had been flipped, replacing tense anticipation with electric relief. Throughout the square, throughout the city, and in living rooms across America, people were shouting, whistling, clapping, jumping, hugging, praying and weeping.

Mr Manago’s bus was late, but he could hear the noise three blocks away. He asked a stranger for confirmation; he too began crying.

“It felt like butterflies in your chest,” he said. “It was overwhelming. I was just as happy as I was sad.”

He knew, inherently, what the rest of the crowd would say later.

The momentarily thrill of justice couldn’t erase years of its absence. Basic accountability shouldn’t have to come at such a high cost.

“I’m still missing him,” Mr Manago said. “He’s not coming back.”

Minneapolis says there’s still work to be done

As the crowd moved from the courthouse square to the city streets, the images of celebration took on a telling backdrop: concrete barriers, barbed wire and boarded up windows.

The city was bracing for an outpouring of anger. There was, after all, precedent.

Chauvin is only the second officer to be convicted of an on-duty killing in Minnesota, and the first white man. He’s one of only 20 officers, nationally, to be convicted by a jury for on-duty killings since 2005.

Last year alone, 1,127 people were killed by police.

“This isn’t going to take away the fear I have for my child,” said BZ Page, who was walking through the streets, carrying two Black Lives Matter flags.

“He’s only 8 years old. Am I going to be the one crying on the pavement in 10, 20 years’ time? I don’t know. And until I know for sure, there can never be true justice.”

Just as the verdict was being read in Minneapolis, 16-year-old Ma’Khia Bryant was fatally shot by a white police officer in Ohio.

Her mum told local reporters that Bryant, who is black, was trying to break up a fight; she had called the police for help.

Activists are still pushing for policy change

In Minnesota, like most states, legislators are drafting bills for law enforcement reform. They’ve had mixed success in making them law.

Activist and civil rights lawyer Nekima Levy Armstrong said even the small changes would not have happened were it not for the response triggered by Mr Floyd’s murder

“Now people know that when something’s happening, people will be quick to whip out a camera. They’ll be quick to file a report. They’ll be quick to take to the streets. There’s been a huge cultural shift,” she said.

“And that culture is a huge catalyst for change here and around the world.”

At the federal level, a policing bill named in honour of Mr Floyd passed the Democratically controlled House of Representatives in March.

The same bill failed to progress in Congress last year. It includes provisions championed by activists and academics alike, including a ban on chokeholds, the creation of a national database to track police misconduct and an end to “qualified immunity”, which shields law enforcement from lawsuits.

But given the lack of Republican support, the bill is unlikely to get the 60 votes needed to pass the Senate, where both parties hold 50 seats.

“We need congress to act,” US President Joe Biden said in remarks yesterday.

“So we can’t leave this moment or look away, thinking our work is done. We have to look at it — we have to — we have to look at it as we did for those nine minutes and 29 seconds. We have to listen.”

The morning after the verdict, Mr Biden’s Attorney General, Merrick Garland, announced the justice department was launching a civil probe into the Minneapolis Police Department’s conduct.

Activists’ enthusiasm for the move was tempered. There are more than 18,000 law enforcement agencies in the United States.

‘I’ll always see him as my friend’

The morning after the verdict, Alvin Manago went down to the intersection of 38th and Chicago.

The site of his friend’s murder, now known as George Floyd Square, is a place Mr Manago doesn’t visit too often. It can stir up overwhelming emotions.

Activists gather there to shout “George Floyd” in solidarity. “George Floyd” appears on hundreds of posters and memorials. Reporters stand there and say “George Floyd” again and again to cameras, to audiences that span the globe.

Mr Manago still sees “George Floyd” written on his mailbox.

Mr Floyd’s old blue bible still sits in the living room, with his favourite passages marked. He still pulls out his phone to look at photos of the two hanging out, at a barbecue, on a boat, in the house.

Mr Manago didn’t want to spend all day inside, so he came here, to take it all in with the crowd.

“It’s just so much to absorb,” he said. “Seeing how he’s become part of something so big…”

“I can see why people use the word ‘martyr,’ but I’ll always see him as my friend. He made my life better.

“He made millions of other peoples’ lives feel different. The change he caused was bringing people together.”