“Guilty on all counts” is the phrase we’ve been waiting almost an entire year to hear. 

Derek Chauvin, the former Minneapolis police officer who murdered George Floyd last May, was finally convicted for his actions after 11 months of waiting. Yes, let that sink in: nearly a full year of wondering if this man would be held responsible for the exponential pain and tragedy he caused.

Last week, the world watched as this verdict finally came to fruition. Over 18 million people streamed the trial live — and some treated it like it was the latest episode in their favorite television program. One member of our editorial board said their friends even made popcorn while watching.

All in all, we feel a little numb to the idea of celebration. 

Numb because this temporary relief and Chauvin’s June 16 sentence doesn’t rewrite the context of a much larger problem. Since 2005, there have only been seven murder convictions of officers involved in fatal shootings, with over 13,000 fatal police shootings within that same timeframe. For context, Chapman’s student population is only 10,000. 

The victims of police brutality are much more than the simple statistics we’ve presented, but the sheer numbers help us recognize the fact that there is an extremely disconcerting disparity in consequence between those being killed and those doing the killing. 

So while it is terrific news — and hopefully some form of justice for Floyd’s family — that a former officer is being punished for his crimes, that doesn’t change the fact that the chance of an officer being convicted of murder for a fatal shooting is one in 2,000. That doesn’t change the thousands of closed cases or the lack of universal reform within police training and racial biases. Not to mention the fact that we feel odd about celebrating Chauvin getting a 40-year prison sentence, due to the broken system that is the prison-industrial complex. 

Numb, too, because throughout this trial and past year, we’ve seen too much. The widespread video of Floyd’s murder and subsequent news coverage frenzy was the first development across a period that most recently has provided video footage of 13-year-old boy Adam Toledo being shot and killed by Chicago police. 

How did we get to a point where with one simple click most anywhere we turn, we can watch someone’s life gruesomely be taken from them in real time? It’s almost dystopian.

News outlets, particularly at the local level, have played a crucial role in keeping Floyd’s murder relevant over the last year, serving as public informants that hold those in authority accountable for their actions. But we can’t help feeling like it’s added an unnecessary degree of sensationalism to a deeply human and personal incident. Family and friends of Floyd, and more recently Daunte Wright, shouldn't have to shoulder the burden of publicly informing an ignorant world of police brutality, which has often been thrust upon them in a storm of press. They’ve hardly had room to grieve for their loss.

From the videos of his death back in May, to the live coverage of the trial, we’ve seen too much. We’ve watched Floyd’s family members cry on the witness stand, forced to defend his character in front of the entire world, and watched the media indirectly humanize Chauvin by zooming into his face as it was announced he’d be spending 40 years in prison. This isn’t a courtroom drama. This is reality.

At the end of the day, what is there to celebrate? Floyd is still gone. The lives of 966 people that were cut short at the hands of police since Floyd’s May 25 murder will never return. 

While there are hostile situations where officers feel they have no choice but to use lethal force, we’ve seen too many impetuous examples that reveal otherwise. A celebration, on our part, would neglect both the existence of a very flawed policing system that has yet to be recognized by Congress and the victims and families who will never experience such closure.