A family's struggle pushes police for accountability, new approaches

On Thanksgiving, when most people across the country were sharing moments of gratitude with friends and family members, my family (along with many others in Santa Cruz, Calif.) was mourning the deaths of my nephew Luke Smith and longtime resident Sean Arlt.

My nephew was 15 and a student at Aptos High School. Arlt, 32, suffered from mental illness and was the father of a 4-year-old boy. Both were killed by Santa Cruz police.

After each incident, Santa Cruz residents were left wondering, "Where's the compassion?" There was a call for the militarization and brutality of local police to stop.



From excessive force to Luke's Law


The circumstances surrounding the shootings showed my family and the residents of Santa Cruz how much cops need to pull back on the amount of force used.

On Oct. 16, Arlt was killed by police after a 911 call that stated he was trying to break into a house. When police showed up, Arlt was holding a rake, according to a report. The officers were aware of his mental illness and tried to coax him away from the house. Instead, Arlt is said to have threatened the officers with the rake. Officers tasered him and then shot him, according to a report of the incident in The (San Jose) Mercury News.

About a month later, a little after 3 a.m. on Nov. 19, my nephew was also shot and killed. He had returned to his father's house after hanging out with friends. Luke's father noticed his son was acting strangely and confronted him. Luke was high on LSD and at some point stabbed his father and a family friend with a 4-inch pocket knife. My nephew ran from the house carrying the knife, while his father dialed 911 to get help for himself and to get authorities to find Luke. When the police showed up, Luke was standing in the middle of a rural road.

They ordered him several times to drop the knife. He did not. Nearly a dozen officers surrounded and tasered him. They released a K-9, which bit him. One of the officers shot him, they said, because he raised his hand in the air as if he was going to stab someone. My family and I saw no such movement on the police body camera video that was released not long after Luke's death.

I have felt so hopeless as I've watched my sister and my niece grieve.

It's understandable that any mother who has lost a child would wish for a magic wand, something that could make the emotional nightmare go away. I have had no words to ease her pain or to make sense of Luke's death.

My sister found her magic wand in the form of Luke’s Law. She wants legislation that would change police practices to prevent the wrongful death of children under 21. My sister wants officers to shoot to disarm, not shoot to kill. She has called for the sheriff's department to be more accountable for the actions of its officers — a change that would protect not only kids under 21, but also those suffering from mental illness like Arlt.

Her message to everyone: "All lives matter, my son’s life matters."

Our family and a group of community supporters are preparing a Luke's Law petition, and we're confident that we'll get the signatures needed for a referendum.



A community mourns


Within days of Luke's shooting, the Santa Cruz County Sheriff's Office released the body cam footage in the name of transparency.

The 16-minute video has been posted on YouTube and Facebook for the world to see, including all of Luke’s teenage friends. But instead of answering questions, the video has raised even more: Why were 11 police officers and a K-9 present to deal with one boy? Why did they shoot him with a semiautomatic weapon, and why did they act so hastily? After he was already on the ground and wounded, why did they release the K-9 to attack the boy again? Why did they handcuff him after he was shot? And why did they lay him face down while trying to address his chest wound?

No matter what the answers are, Luke is not coming back. He will not celebrate Christmas with his family again. He will not surf again. His friends will never again laugh at his jokes.

Three days after Thanksgiving would have been Luke's 16th birthday. On that day, nearly 500 family members and friends showed up for Luke's memorial and life celebration. They shared stories about his talent, his caring nature, his bold and intelligent personality. This month, community members started holding Saturday vigils for both Luke and Arlt. The group plans to do this each week, they say, until justice is served and the cops are held accountable.

My sister did not speak during the memorial service for her son. Instead, she shared, through tears, memories of her son as she and I sat alone in her home. She was looking at an old photo of the two of them standing together after she had taken Luke surfing. She described her son as "just an ordinary kid. He lived his life to the fullest, he loved to surf, he loved to hang out with his sister and friends, he was just a silly and loving boy. He has the right to life."

Luke's Law will make sure that other boys and girls have a full life. And that mothers like my sister no longer have to search for magic to make the pain go away.


Carina Hoang is a former Vietnamese refugee, award-winning author and publisher and special representative of Australia for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.


Photo: Luke Smith with his Mother on the California Coast (Family photo)