Fruitvale Station Companion Blog
This blog is part of a series exploring unconscious bias through film. The world’s problems can feel overwhelming, but change begins with small steps—inside each of us. By reflecting on the stories we see on screen, we can better understand our own assumptions and start to shift them in real life.
What does it mean to be seen — truly seen — by the world around you? In Fruitvale Station, directed by Ryan Coogler, we spend the final day of Oscar Grant III’s life with him, not as a headline or a statistic, but as a full human being with flaws, hopes, fears, responsibilities, and relationships. The film opens with the real footage of his death — an unarmed man shot by a transit police officer — and then takes us back through the ordinary moments that made up his life. What we discover isn’t a one-dimensional character, but a person trying to find his footing in a world that often sees him only through stereotypes. The Guardian+1
Oscar is many things: a father, a son, a man with mistakes and contradictions. He’s recently lost a job, he’s had run-ins with the law, he’s trying to be a better man for his daughter and partner — but just when it feels like he might be turning a corner, his life ends in violence. The film is intimate, humanizing, and unflinching in the way it presents his life. It doesn’t make him a saint — nor does it present him as a “thug” or “criminal.” Instead, it shows how a system can fail someone at every turn, even when they’re trying to improve. thedialoguebox.com
Where unconscious bias shows up in this story is not only in the moment of the shooting, but in the assumptions that precede it. Police immediately target Oscar and his friends after a scuffle on a train, even though the altercation began with someone else. They see a group of young men whose appearance fits a stereotype of “danger,” and they treat them as suspects. In that moment, the assumptions and fears held by those with power override an individual’s humanity — and it turns out tragically. thedialoguebox.com
This isn’t just a “police problem” — it’s a cultural one. Oscar’s life and death remind us how many people are judged quickly and unfairly because of ingrained assumptions about who they are before anyone has taken the time to see who they really are. Media narratives about crime, social perception about poverty and employment, and everyday encounters with authority all contribute to a world in which certain people are viewed through a distorted lens — one that devalues their lives, their struggles, and their potential. the-artifice.com
Reflection Questions
Whom do you see first as a type — based on how they look, where they live, or how they speak — rather than as a whole person?
In your own life, when have assumptions about someone’s background influenced how you treated them before you even knew their story?
What systems in your daily world (education, work, policing, media narratives) might shape how you see others without you even realizing it?
One Small Step
Here are three options of small steps you can take:
Next time you see someone you instinctively categorize (by appearance, attire, accent, or age), ask yourself: What don’t I know about this person? What am I assuming?
Share a conversation with someone whose life experience seems very different from your own — listen more than you speak.
If you’re comfortable, revisit a time when a first impression turned out to be wrong — and write down what you learned from it. Acknowledging how our minds unconsciously categorize others is the first step toward changing that pattern.
Fruitvale Station doesn’t just ask us to witness Oscar’s death — it invites us to sit with his life. It asks us to consider not only how a person can be misunderstood by a police system, but how all of us can carry unseen assumptions that shape how we see others. And when those assumptions are left unchecked, we all lose something essential — empathy, connection, and shared humanity.
If you would like to further your understanding of bias in policing, read Biased: Uncovering the Hidden Prejudice That Shapes What We See, Think, Do, by Jennifer Eberhardt, PhD.
