The Sacramento Police Department has been found liable for violating the constitutional rights of George Floyd protesters in a significant legal ruling, but the outcome has left many of those involved feeling disillusioned, angry, and abandoned by a justice system that, in their view, has failed to deliver meaningful change.
The lawsuit, filed by six racial justice protesters including Meg White, stemmed from the events of late May and early June 2020, when Sacramento, like many cities across the United States, erupted in protest following the murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin.
What followed in Sacramento was a police response marked by what the court has now confirmed was excessive force: the use of chemical weapons, rubber bullets, batons, and so-called “less-lethal” munitions fired indiscriminately into crowds of mostly peaceful demonstrators.
Represented by the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights of the San Francisco Bay Area, Disability Rights Advocates, and the firm Siegel, Yee, Brunner & Mehta, the plaintiffs brought claims under the First and Fourth Amendments as well as California civil rights statutes, seeking both compensation and permanent injunctive relief to change Sacramento’s approach to protest policing.
After nearly five years of litigation, the city agreed to settle for $350,000 in damages for the six plaintiffs. But the court, despite finding that the city had committed widespread constitutional violations, declined to issue a permanent injunction that would mandate reforms going forward. For White and others who put their bodies and well-being on the line, the message felt clear: monetary compensation was all the legal system was prepared to offer. The institutional culture and practices that enabled the violence would remain untouched.
White, a community member and racial justice advocate, recalled how she and others had exhausted official channels—attending city council meetings, engaging with police department outreach events, submitting public comment—and were met with silence or indifference.
“It felt like putting our demands in a suggestion box over a trash can,” she said. “When those efforts failed, we went to the streets, because what else were we supposed to do?” White emphasized that her participation was peaceful. “I didn’t loot. I didn’t vandalize. I wasn’t violent. I didn’t even shout that much. But I was maced in the face, hit with a baton, and left with a bulging disc in my back. And nothing about that was considered out of bounds by the city.”
Attorney Marissa Hatton, who led the legal challenge alongside a coalition of civil rights advocates, underscored how difficult it is to win such a case, especially against a police department rather than individual officers.
Under the Monell doctrine, municipalities can only be held liable if the harm results from a policy, practice, or failure to train that amounts to deliberate indifference. In this case, the judge ruled that the Sacramento Police Department did in fact have policies in place—such as the use of “overwhelming less-lethal force” for crowd control—that enabled and encouraged the use of force that injured plaintiffs like White, Nicollette Jones, Loren Kidd, and others. SPD officers were found to have fired rubber bullets and tear gas without sufficient warning or justification.
The court ruled that these tactics violated the Fourth Amendment, which protects against unreasonable seizures and excessive force.
Jones, for instance, was shot with rubber bullets eleven times, including in her groin and back as she tried to flee. Her finger was broken in two places. Other plaintiffs were similarly struck while standing still, speaking peacefully, or attempting to leave the scene. Internal affairs investigations were conducted, but the outcome was telling.
Over 200 uses of force were reviewed. Of those, only eight were found to be outside department policy, and just two were referred to internal affairs. No officer was meaningfully disciplined. The court noted this lack of accountability as part of its finding that the city had failed to discipline officers or train them adequately.
Still, despite the ruling on the Fourth Amendment violations, the plaintiffs were denied an injunction. The court accepted the city’s argument that policy changes adopted since 2020, including new state laws like California Penal Code section 13652 and internal SPD reforms, were sufficient to prevent future misconduct.
The court concluded that plaintiffs had not demonstrated a “real and immediate threat” of future harm, and thus lacked standing to seek injunctive relief. Hatton expressed frustration with this reasoning, pointing out that changes on paper do not necessarily translate into changes in practice.
“If you’re not disciplining the officers who shot people in the head, if you’re telling them they did everything right, then why would anyone believe you’ll act differently next time?” she asked.
White said the most chilling realization for her was the sense that nothing had changed.
“We spent five years on this case, gave testimony, re-lived our trauma, trusted in the courts. And in the end, all we got was a payout from the city’s insurance fund. The police department didn’t admit fault, didn’t change practices, and didn’t promise to do anything different.” For her and several co-plaintiffs, the experience has had a long-lasting effect. Several testified that their willingness to protest in the future has been chilled. White said flatly, “I don’t protest anymore. I don’t feel safe.”
The contrast between how the city responded to racial justice protesters and right-wing demonstrators could not have been more stark.
Later in 2020, during the wave of “Stop the Steal” protests, many of the same officers and commanders responded with restraint, even as some protestors engaged in aggressive behavior. In one case captured on video, a Stop the Steal protester attempted to use bear mace on a crowd, then ran and took shelter behind police lines.
Officers did not intervene. Meanwhile, peaceful racial justice protestors were cited, detained, and in many cases violently subdued for minor or non-existent infractions.
Hatton noted that this discrepancy was central to the plaintiffs’ First Amendment claims—that the city had engaged in viewpoint discrimination by targeting Black and allied protesters more harshly than their white, pro-Trump counterparts. But the court declined to engage those claims in its final ruling, limiting its judgment to the Fourth Amendment.
White said the message sent by this disparate treatment was unmistakable. “It wasn’t about what we were doing. It was about what we were saying. The police didn’t want to hear about racism, police brutality, or accountability. They were fine with protests as long as the protesters were on their side.”
The ruling, while legally significant, did little to reassure her or others that their rights would be protected going forward.
Hatton agreed, stating, “The system is good at putting a dollar amount on pain. It’s not good at delivering justice.”
The plaintiffs had also sought to use the case to force changes in policy—stricter limits on the use of rubber bullets, required de-escalation protocols, and clear rules prohibiting indiscriminate force during protests. But the court declined to impose these reforms.
While the judge acknowledged that SPD’s previous policies were deficient and that plaintiffs had suffered constitutional violations, the court held that the department’s current policies, adopted after 2020, were legally sufficient. Those policies now require supervisor approval before deploying chemical agents and mandate annual reporting under California’s military equipment transparency laws.
However, both Hatton and White emphasized that such requirements are meaningless if not enforced.
“Policies mean nothing if officers know there are no consequences for breaking them,” White said.
Ultimately, while the legal victory confirms what many in the community already knew—that Sacramento police used excessive force against peaceful protesters—the lack of injunctive relief has left the plaintiffs and their supporters feeling that justice remains elusive. The message they take away is that the city is willing to pay off victims, but not to change the conditions that led to the harm in the first place.
For activists like White, the consequences are both personal and political. “I still have nightmares. I still live with injuries. I lost my sense of safety, not just on the streets, but in the system itself. And when I look at what’s happening now in other cities, I know we’re not done fighting. But I also know I won’t be the one in the streets anymore. They’ve made sure of that.”
As protests continue in Los Angeles and across the country in response to renewed state violence, the Sacramento case offers a cautionary tale: even a successful lawsuit, with damning findings and a monetary settlement, may not be enough to change the trajectory of policing in America.
Without accountability, transparency, and real reform, the cycle of protest and repression is bound to repeat. The plaintiffs may have won in court, but for many of them—and for the movements they represent—the fight for justice is far from over.
