In Texas, 17-year-old Karmelo Anthony is facing a first-degree murder charge following a tragic altercation that resulted in the death of Austin Metcalf. His bond was set at $1 million. The consequences—regardless of guilt or innocence—are severe and potentially life-altering.
But when we strip away public emotion and focus strictly on the facts and process, a familiar and troubling pattern reemerges: the inconsistent application of justice, especially when the accused is a young Black male.
A Tale of Two Realities
George Zimmerman, a grown man, stalked and shot 17-year-old Trayvon Martin and was acquitted. Daniel Penny, a white Marine, fatally choked a mentally ill Black man on a subway and was released on $100,000 bond. Caysen Allison, a white student in Texas, fatally stabbed a classmate and was granted bond—even after being arrested again for assault while awaiting trial.
But Karmelo Anthony, a 17-year-old with no criminal record, is held on a $1 million bond and vilified in the court of public opinion. No benefit of the doubt. No grace. No balanced reporting.
Let’s be clear: Karmelo Anthony is not the profile of dysfunction. He comes from a two-parent household, with an active father present. By every measure, he is the type of young man society claims it wants to uplift. Yet he was criminalized before the facts were even processed.
A Parallel Case: Caysen Allison
There is another Texas case currently playing out in real time—the trial of Caysen Allison, a white high school student charged with murder for fatally stabbing another student, Jose Luis “Joe” Ramirez Jr., in 2022. Like Karmelo Anthony, Allison claims he acted in self-defense. Like Anthony, the incident took place in a school setting and involved a single fatal stab wound during a physical altercation.
And yet, there is no million-dollar bond. No media frenzy. No social media attacks labeling Allison a thug or killer. In fact, despite eyewitness testimony that Allison brought the knife to school, much of the public response has been muted or sympathetic.
And the disparity doesn’t stop there. After his release on a reduced $175,000 bond, Caysen Allison was arrested again—this time for allegedly assaulting a family member. Despite this second arrest while awaiting a murder trial, Allison remained on house arrest and has continued to receive the presumption of fairness in the legal process.
By contrast, Karmelo Anthony—who acted during a spontaneous physical altercation, has no prior arrests, and showed concern for the victim after the incident—was immediately painted as dangerous, overcharged with first-degree murder, and buried under a bond five times higher than Allison’s.
And notably, none of the same social media personalities condemning Karmelo Anthony have voiced support for Jose Ramirez’s family. Why? Because Ramirez, the victim, doesn’t fit a politically convenient narrative, and Allison, the accused, is not a young Black male. The silence speaks volumes.
If we are going to claim to care about justice, it must apply regardless of race, popularity, or whose name drives engagement online.
What the Law Says
Texas law clearly states under Penal Code Sections 9.31 and 9.32:
- A person is justified in using force if they reasonably believe it is necessary to protect themselves.
- Deadly force may be used if they reasonably believe it is necessary to prevent death or serious bodily harm.
Texas also has a “Stand Your Ground” provision—no duty to retreat if you are not the aggressor and have a legal right to be present.
According to police reports and witness accounts, Austin Metcalf was the aggressor. He reportedly initiated the confrontation, and Anthony warned him not to touch him. When Metcalf did, the situation escalated. Whether the response was appropriate is a matter for trial—but these facts should matter in public judgment.
The Arrest Report: Biased and Legally Problematic
Legal analysis of the arrest report reveals significant concerns. The report identifies Anthony explicitly as a “Black male” but makes no mention of the race of any other individuals involved—a subtle but telling example of bias.
Worse, Anthony was detained, told to keep his hands up, and was not free to leave—yet was never Mirandized. He made multiple self-incriminating statements such as “I was protecting myself” and “He put his hands on me.”
Under the Fifth Amendment, his right to remain silent was violated. At 17, Anthony was likely unaware that he didn’t need to speak. The officer’s failure to read him his Miranda rights means those statements should be suppressed—as well as any evidence obtained as a result, under the “fruit of the poisonous tree” doctrine.
This isn’t speculation. Veteran Texas defense attorneys have successfully had entire cases dismissed for less. And in this case, bodycam footage will be critical in determining whether Anthony’s rights were violated.
A System That Looks Under the Blindfold
With 33 years in law enforcement, I’ve worked with victims of crime, families devastated by violence, and communities harmed by police misconduct. Justice is supposed to be blind. But too often, it peeks beneath the blindfold—first to see if you’re Black or white, then to see if you’re rich or poor. That’s not theory. That’s what I’ve seen firsthand.
What’s especially discouraging is not only the failure of the system, but the failure from within our own ranks. The loudest critics of Karmelo Anthony—many of whom posture as cultural commentators and defenders of accountability—have been some of the quickest to condemn him without due process.
And here’s the most revealing part: none of them are attorneys, none of them work in criminal justice, and none of them have direct experience with the legal system they are suddenly so vocal about. Their opinions are not informed by law but by audience size—and their audiences are overwhelmingly white, conservative, and eager to consume narratives that reinforce their views.
These influencers are not speaking truth to power. They are profiting off power—by feeding their platforms at the expense of a 17-year-old Black teenager who, according to all evidence, acted in fear during a confrontation he did not initiate.
Final Thought
This case is not about excusing violence. A young man is dead, and that is a tragedy. But another young man now faces the full weight of a legal system that has long struggled to apply its principles consistently—especially when the defendant is young and Black.
After his arrest, Karmelo Anthony acknowledged the incident and stated he acted in self-defense. According to police reports, he also expressed concern for Austin Metcalf’s condition. That is not the reaction of a remorseless killer. It is the emotional response of a teenager caught in a confrontation he neither sought nor initiated.
What’s equally disturbing is how quickly certain public figures condemned Anthony—many of whom have no legal training, no justice system experience, and no familiarity with Texas law. Their commentary is not rooted in justice but in feeding audiences that prefer outrage over facts. Their silence in cases like Caysen Allison reveals how selective—and profitable—their outrage really is.
None of them have publicly supported Jose Ramirez’s family. Why? Because Ramirez doesn’t fit the political narrative, and Allison is not a young Black male. That silence speaks volumes.
If we are going to claim to care about justice, it must apply regardless of race, popularity, or whose name drives engagement. Otherwise, we are not defending principle—we are indulging performance.
True justice demands equal protection under the law—not trial by media, not pressure from social platforms, and not silence when it’s politically inconvenient.
Follow this developing case at www.niornews.com/ — the news with the Black point of view.
