Truth is often more boring than the stories we hear

Earlier this week, a fight broke out in broad daylight on the busiest street in the entire city. Based on some raw footage that began rapidly circulating on social media, a minor car accident preceded the altercation, which caused someone dressed in Ric Flair’s robe to vacate their car and physically strike another person. The whole scene was absurdly unpredictable, but the responses on social media were quite the opposite.

One post after another shared the video with comments ranging from “C’mon, Jackson. You’re better than this.” to “Jackson tryin’ to be like Memphis.” to “Only in Jackson.” - each banality attributing a singular event to the overall character of a city that houses nearly 70,000 people. In other words, the actions of three people were hoisted on the backs of the other 69,997 to place a nice, sensational bow around this gift-wrapped, viral video that entertained people on an otherwise mundane Monday.

While most intelligent people can discern the obvious differences between a poor decision made by two or three people and the character of an entire city, images - and the words attached - can carve their way into our thoughts and form narratives that aren’t entirely true; narratives that activate the parts of our brains that are the most primitive and necessary for survival. With those chemical cocktails only exacerbated by social media, humans can’t help but be irrevocably attracted to sensationalism.

Just as the aforementioned video was going viral, I was listening to a local talk radio caller discuss his ingenious plan to put razor wire in the Rio Grande to prevent migrants from crossing the southern border. This particular caller had fully bought into the “migrant crime wave” narrative that has been building for years and has been spinning ferociously during election season.

Believers of this narrative espouse that immigrants from other countries are bringing copious amounts of drugs into our country as well as committing violent acts of crime such as rape and murder. Much like the viral video of the accident on North Highland, the migrant crime narrative also attaches the poor decisions of a few to the perception of the whole.

Because of the ways these narratives shift and turn through social media posts, memes, and anecdotal stories, the actual truth never stands a chance; it’s washed away over time, and an empty shell of reality takes its place.

Since Donald Trump entered the political fray in 2015, he has leaned on the idea that more immigrants filtering into the United States will lead to more crime. In fact, this narrative has taken such a stronghold in our culture that over half of Americans - 57% to be exact - believe that the influx of migrants will increase the crime rate in our country. This idea is only based on a rhetoric of fear - the most challenging emotion to control - and the sensational half-truths that zip around Zuckerberg’s and Musk’s virtual playgrounds.

Like any complex topic, the truth surrounding immigration isn’t nearly as simple (or fearful) as some people would have you believe.

According to research from the Journal of Ethnicity in Criminal Justice, empirical evidence from data collected over forty years (1970-2010) showed no correlation between the increase of immigrants and rising crime. In fact, the opposite was true. In heavily migrated areas, violent crime rates dropped over four decades, along with robberies and assaults.

Beyond the data from the JECJ, numerous studies have shown that areas with a large number of undocumented immigrants showed no increase in violent crime, and crime rates in so-called sanctuary cities remained static.

Yet, the narrative of a “migrant crime wave” persists.

Another unintended yet damaging aspect of disreputable narratives is their ability to prejudicially blame certain groups of people for real issues that plague society. Take the fentanyl crisis, for example.

We all can agree that fentanyl is deadly and should be eradicated from society. The pain and suffering the drug has caused can’t be denied. However, finding where to place that blame should be done so that it doesn’t lump an entire group of people into the conversation.

While the majority of fentanyl enters through the southern border, nearly every confiscation of the drug involved it being transported by U.S. citizens - 99% to be exact. Unfortunately, because of narratives based on sensationalistic fabrications, it has been easy for many people to connect the influx of migrants with the rise in fentanyl deaths.

In no way am I saying that an immigrant to our country or an undocumented migrant has never committed a crime - of course, they have. What does concern me, however, is how the glare of the spotlight seems to shine brighter on those instances than it does on others.

As I read the comments and saw more and more of my Facebook friends share the video of the fight on North Highland, I was reminded of how many post-wreck scenes I’ve witnessed in my forty-plus years living in Jackson. I reasoned that it had to be close to 50 or so. And, out of those 50 post-accident scenes, I had never once seen a fight ensue. Most of the time, I saw two people standing by their cars, exchanging information, while someone else had stopped to help direct traffic. I saw people helping people because that happens most of the time. That’s the truth.

I know that the truth takes effort to discover; it usually doesn’t splash itself out there to be consumed in one bite. The truth is often nuanced, complex, and hard to find. Those are precisely the reasons why it’s so valuable.

Gabe Hart is a local educator whose columns have appeared in multiple news outlets locally and statewide.