Thursday, December 12, 2013

Two Recent Articles: Racial Disparity in the Criminal Justice System

THIS IS A MAKEUP BLOG POST

I saw two news articles on my Facebook newsfeed today. The articles outraged me, independently of one another because I think they both speak to failures on the part of our criminal justice system. However, what outraged me even further was the ABSURD disparity between the treatment of these two men. 

"Unarmed man shot at by NYPD has been charged with assault because bullets hit bystanders"

"Ethan Couch Sentenced to Probation In Crash That Killed 4 After Defense Argued He Had 'Affluenza'"

Take a wild guess at which man is white, and which is black.


Glenn Broadnax, unnamed in his headline, is a 35 year old man from Brooklyn, where the incident occurred. The article states:  "Instead of apologizing, the New York Times reports that the city has charged Broadnax 'with assault, on the theory that he was responsible for bullet wounds suffered by two bystanders.'" (http://raniakhalek.com/2013/12/05/unarmed-man-shot-at-by-nypd-has-been-charged-with-assault-because-bullets-hit-bystanders/)



In stark contrast, Ethan Couch is very privileged, white teenager. Couch was driving with a BAC of .24, three times the legal limit for an adult. I am going to quote from the article directly, because I simply have no words for this.
"As part of his sentence, Couch will be sent to a private counseling center that costs $450,000, which will be paid for by his father.
Money and privilege has helped defendants avoid serious prison time for violent crimes before.
In a particularly clear example, cited by journalist Glenn Greenwald, hedge fund manager Martin Joel Erzinger served just 90 days in jail after driving the car that seriously injured a bicyclist and fled the scene of the accident in 2010.
The district attorney in the case charged Erzlinger with two misdemeanors instead of a felony, noting that "felony convictions have some pretty serious job implications for someone in Mr. Erzinger's profession."" (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/12/11/ethan-couch-sentenced_n_4426722.html?utm_hp_ref=tw)

We know, from reading The New Jim Crow, how being poor and black is practically a crime in the eyes of the law, however to see these two headlines nearly side by side on my newsfeed illuminated this disparity in a way I never could have imagined. I can't believe this shit actually happens in our world. 


Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Reflections on being fingerprinted


THIS IS A MAKEUP BLOG POST.

I am studying abroad in the Spring, and for part of my Visa application I have to get an FBI background check. This required me to get fingerprinted, which I did today at the Collegeville Police Dept. When I arrived at the building I was told by the secretary to knock on the police door. Inside there was a detective, in plainclothes and an officer in uniform. I explained that I needed to be fingerprinted. The detective was on the phone, and told me to have a seat in the waiting room. I wasn't sitting for more than 30 seconds, when the officer came out and told me to come with him, he said that I didn't need to wait, he would fingerprint me. 

We went into the room, and the detective reappeared. He said that he would do my fingerprints, and the officer agreed, saying that the detective was better at it anyway. I have two tattoos on my left hand (ring and middle finger), and the detective asked me what they were. Without thinking, I replied, "prison tattoos". As soon it came out of my mouth I realized how inappropriate that is to say while getting fingerprinted, but the detective was already cracking up, he thought it was hysterical. 

Throughout the process, he remarked and kept remarking that my hands were sweating (they were--I had my winter coat on, and I was nervous too; I'd never been fingerprinted). He also made some comment about how I must be an alright kid since I'm a junior and have never met him. He also confessed to being the "bad cop". You know--cop humor. 

After the fingerprinting, we went pack into the room with the officer. I noticed that he was watching something that looked like an instructional video about testing and bagging drug evidence. A pair of gloved hands were shown sealing a joint in a small plastic bag. As the detective made a photo copy of my fingerprint card. He told the officer,"Look how much she was sweating! Look at her, she's nervous... I'll bet she's carrying dope!" They both laughed raucously like it was the funniest thing they'd heard all day.

Leaving the station, all I could think was: He never would have made that comment if I was a black man.
I reflected on the whole experience. The fact that I walked in there with a backpack, and the fact that I was sweating were all potentially suspect things.

I COULD have had "dope" in my backpack-- but since I am a white woman, this possibility seemed so ludicrous to the officers, so hysterically funny, that they did not even entertain it.  

 

Sunday, November 24, 2013

11-24 Bonner Discussion Reflection

On November 20th, Jamie, Aastha and I led a Bonner class discussion around Tim Wise's White Like Me, and in particular Chapter 6, which deals with the institutional colorblindness that can be found in the world of non-profits. We thought it would be both appropriate and necessary to bring this conversation to Bonners. We spend 8 hours a week in volunteering in communities such as Norristown and North Philadelphia. This racial divide is quite apparent (for example, CASA is an after school program for 5th and 6th graders in Norristown, and all of the children are black with the exception of one Hispanic girl) However, none of our community partners mention race in their mission statement-- or seem to address the issue at all. Racial justice cannot be achieved through service if our service is colorblind.
            We opened the class by showing a 10-minute video of Tim Wise speaking; the video is titled The Pathology of White Privilege, and it pointedly deals with the ways in which privilege can blind us to the realities that non-whites in the United States face on a daily basis. After the video, we asked for general reactions. I was surprised that a few people expressed that they had never before heard the term “white privilege”, and I gathered that some were still unfamiliar with its true meaning. One student expressed that she did not feel particularly privileged because she comes from a lower-middle class household. I emphasized that because she is white, she is afforded benefits that non-whites are not allowed in our society. The term “privilege” can be easily confused, especially if one is used to operating from a colorblind perspective.
            One of the discussion questions we had come up with dealt with the idea of service as an exercise in privilege. I came up with this question mostly as a though experiment, but some students seemed almost offended by the idea. This was actually a huge point of contention and disagreement in our discussion. I had prefaced this question by reading a passage from White Like Me in which Wise discusses the school service trips he encountered in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina:
"Occasionally the answers I would receive suggested a very high level of critical engagement, which was heartening. By this I mean, the persons who had organized the trip had recognized the importance of preparing the students for the experience by having pre-arrival conversations regarding racism, classism, the history of the city, and the political and cultural context within which the tragedy had occurred. In those cases, the volunteers were not simply going to New Orleans to "get their help on," or perform some version of perceived Christian duty; rather they were going to bear witness to inequality, learn from local leaders about their experiences, and work in real solidarity with the people struggling to rebuild the city--working with, not for" (230). 

Wise goes on to note that most of the service trips lacked this sort of preparation. I wanted to connect this to the idea of us going into communities we know very little about (e.g. Norristown or North Philly) in order to help and serve.  Is this not an exercise in privilege to some extent? There was disagreement. Here is a section from one student’s reflection:

I still don’t see local service as an “exercise” in privilege. An exercise means that something is being used and the implication is that without the privilege I cannot possibly perform the action. I certainly concede the point that our privilege becomes evident when we get out of a school-provided van with Hollister clothing and an institute of higher education to return to, but to be an exercise would mean that I am required to use my privilege to perform the task.

Another student wrote:

Also, i agree with X on her statement as service trips to Norristown not being considered a service trip. I do agree that our white privilege is made known in these areas, but i do not believe it is a direct result of our white privilege.

Another wrote:

It is unproductive to be ashamed of the white privilege, instead I feel as though we should take advantage of the privilege we have and help those who are not privileged. This sounds idealistic, but it is possible, and that is evident in the work we do as Bonners. While we are all privileged is some way or another to be able to go to college and to have to time to devote to volunteer work, we are at least using this to help others.

And yet another wrote:

With the very little I understand about the black children at CASA, I am still feel absolutely horrible leaving those kids to drive home to my wealthy college knowing they may never even have the chance to live the life that I almost take for granted.  So conversation is an incredibly insightful task, but it is just a start.

            It seemed as though, while Bonners were willing to acknowledge the disparity between Collegeville/ Ursinus and the communities we serve, many were reluctant to fully recognize the role that privilege has in our ability to do service. The conversation went to examining how we were selected for the Bonner program, which is a highly selective scholarship. Someone made the point that students whose families were well off would have had the opportunity to do more volunteer work in high school, as opposed to say, working a part-time job. This would have increased their chances of being selected for Bonner. This made another student angry. She said that her family was not well off; they were on food stamps, but she still made the time to volunteer in her community. This is where the discussion got a little dicey, in my opinion. I think that some students felt as though they needed to shout that they were an exception. But the point was to prove exactly that this was an exception. We weren’t trying to generalize—but one look around the room and it is evident that white privilege had to have had some part in being selected for Bonner. There are no black Bonners this year. Not one.
            All in all, I think that the conversation was important and necessary. People clearly took something away from the discussion, and I could tell that we laid a foundation for people to interrogate their privilege as well as personal biases. Wrote one girl:

It was upsetting to realize that, growing up the way I did, even though I never thought of myself as racist, there are these really small ways--like locking the car doors in a black neighborhood-- that I express and continue those stereotypes. In our small groups, I definitely agreed that education is a systematic thing that needs to be addressed; both in the way that it needs to be bettered in poorer areas and that we need to change how racial issues are taught in schools.

Another wrote:

I have learned an enormous amount about myself through the presentation. Though the term "white privilege" has always been somewhat of a buzzword in that it carries certain negative connotations, I never quite understood what exactly that meant. The video made me aware of what privilege entails and the extent by which it applies. Privilege does not just encompass the economic advantage, but the idea that simply being white carries a privilege of not being discriminated for being black. White privilege applies to the fact that we can not only receive an education, have a generous food supply, and have access to all of the knowledge we want, but to the point of anxiety. We impose our beliefs because white privilege has told us that we are right. Most importantly, it has told us that the concept of white privilege often resides exclusively in our subconscious, which is dangerous considering it takes awareness to realize what is in our subconscious. You can affect your awareness, so by ensuring that you maintain conscientiousness, you can start to overcome the societal influences that affect your subconscious. 

            One of the questions we addressed in our small group breakout segment was what we can do to address systemic racism. A lot of people agreed that being aware of our own privilege is a good place to start. Our faulty education system was also discussed. Many felt that they had been robbed, and misinformed—and that schools need to implement a more diverse, holistic curriculum that does not gloss over racial injustices in history. One student thought we need to go even bigger—and attempt to affect policy change and organize communities. He wrote in his reflection:

Unless work is done to affect the governmental policy, we will continue to live in a society that is blatantly divided by race.  I may be thinking too straight forward, but I think our action needs to be directed towards provoking change.  I think that raising awareness, through conversation or events, is awesome because it grows the number of people behind the cause and ready to act.  But I am not sure that I have ever seen an opportunity, on campus at least, that promoted direct action upon the government.  Why aren't we writing to representatives?  Why aren't we linking up with people like Tim Wise and picking their brains about the direct action that could occur?  Only then does raising awareness make sense, because there is a positive and direct outcome coming from enlightenment.  And I think that this lack of action stems from a lot of things, such as distrust in the government to listen and act, making the task appear futile.  But for now, it seems like the most effective action we can take.

            On the whole, I’m very glad that Bonners seemed to take the discussion to heart. Race can be an uncomfortable topic, especially for those who are not accustomed to discussing it. I’m proud of the Bonners for engaging in such an open dialogue, and I am thankful for Aastha and Jamie for being great co-teachers/ discussion mediators. 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Plans to bring "White Like Me" to Bonner Leaders

My blog post this week is going to serve as a space to plan a lesson around Tim Wise's White Like Me, and in particular Chapter 6, which deals with the institutional colorblindness that can be found in the world of non-profits. As Bonner Leaders, Jamie, Aastha and I thought it would be both appropriate and necessary to bring this conversation to Bonners. We spend 8 hours a week in volunteering in communities such as Norristown and North Philadelphia. This racial divide is quite apparent (for example, CASA is an after school program for 5th and 6th graders in Norristown, and all of the children are black with the exception of one Hispanic girl) However, none of our community partners mention race in their mission statement-- or seem to address the issue at all. Racial justice cannot be achieved through service if our service is colorblind.

p. 230-231: Wise discusses the different service trips that came through New Orleans in the wake of the hurricane, and how many of them lacked the adequate preparation to think critically about the community they were engaging with.

"Occasionally the answers I would receive suggested a very high level of critical engagement, which was heartening. By this I mean, the persons who had organized the trip had recognized the importance of preparing the students for the experience by having pre-arrival conversations regarding racism, classism, the history of the city, and the political and cultural context within which the tragedy had occurred. In those cases, the volunteers were not simply going to New Orleans to "get their help on," or perform some version of perceived Christian duty; rather they were going to bear witness to inequality, learn from local leaders about their experiences, and work in real solidarity with the people struggling to rebuild the city--working with, not for" (230). 

He goes on to note that the above was not usually the case. I'd like to use this passage in the text to spark critical thinking regarding our own approach to "service trips" in the past, as well as our regular service.

Some questions:

In which ways do you feel you are "in solidarity" with those you are serving?

When did you become aware of the racial divide within our community partners--when you became aware, did you think about why that might be?

A service trip, in essence, is an exercise in privilege. What are the potential positives and negatives of such an exercise?  Consider both sides (i.e. the travelers as well as the community being served) when formulating a response.



Sunday, November 10, 2013

Golden Cages

"Yet the sleepwalking is slowly but surely coming to a close as more and more fellow citizens realize that the iron cage they inhabit- maybe even a golden cage for the affluent -- is still a form of bondage." - Cornel West

Cornel West's point in his foreword to The New Jim Crow struck me as particularly resonant, and also relates to the point I was making in last week's blog. Privilege, affluence are still results of systemic injustice and bondage. A cage is still a cage, even if it is golden, and even if you crafted it yourself our picked it out from a custom cage boutique. The very existence of cages at all is a testament to the structural issues that pervade our society, especially when it comes to racial inequities. Alexander's mention of white indifference to black suffering, but simultaneously the indifference from black leadership to poor black suffering illustrates the intersectionality of oppressive forces (i.e. race and class in this case), and also the lack of solidarity needed to make effective change.

Michelle Alexander's point in her introduction (I remember she also told this story during her talk at Penn) about seeing the orange flyer with the radical proclamation also resonated. She reflects on how counterproductive it seemed to the cause that these "radicals' would make such a claim. I think the reason she reemphasizes and retells this story is that she recognizes the need for people to be peripheral and radical in their thoughts and activism. It must be incredibly gratifying for a radical activist to see an idea take hold in the mainstream; to become fundamental to popular discourse, and ultimately inspire others to act. We need radical thinkers, because without them we can so easily become "well adjusted to injustice", a fault to which even Alexander admits guilt.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Lonely at the Top

"To define yourself by what you're not is a pathetic and heartbreaking thing. It is to stand bare before a culture that has stolen your birthright, or rather, convinced you to give it up; and the costs are formidable, beginning with the emptiness whites often feel when confronted by multiculturalism and the connectedness of people of color to their heritage" (Wise 180).

Tim Wise addresses the "dependency upon privilege". It's an interesting concept to grapple with-- the notion that an entire culture could circulate around the idea of "not" being this and "not" being that.

In Jean Rhys's novel, Voyage in the Dark, the protagonist Anna (who was a white minority during her childhood, growing up in the Dominican Republic) expresses her feelings explicitly: "Being black is warm and gay, being white is cold and sad" (Rhys #). She connotes envy of black culture, the love she received from her black nanny.  Minority culture, like Wise says, is marked by pride and connection to heritage. Many whites (read: Irish, Italian, Jewish immigrants etc.) relinquished their culture--sacrificed their heritage in order to assimilate into the United States of white normality. The power structure that would become white privilege was contingent upon "viewing the tradition of resistance with suspicion and contempt" (180). Whites on top, alienated from everyone else, and as Wise puts it, apparently each other as well.

These differences are worth examining. Are white people jealous of non-whites? Why is drug use and addiction more prevalent among whites in our country? There are legacies, traditions and structures that come with being historical oppressors. This is also true for the historically oppressed. Are whites miserable (intentional overstatement) because we are paying the cosmic toll for our oppressive actions? Is self-alienation an inherent part of our historical, cultural makeup?

A friend of mine once joked that every time something bad happens to her, or if she feels depressed it's because she's "paying for the Holocaust". It's silly, and trivializing to the magnitude of such a large scale atrocity...but there's something to be said for acknowledging the potential ramifications of lingering collective guilt (no matter how unconscious).  

I'm not saying that problems and consequences of alienation among whites can be linked to their historical role as oppressor, but I'm not saying they can't be either. Cultures of resistance have to be strong, and survival, as an oppressed person necessitates identifying with, bonding with, and forming alliances with others who are oppressed.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

The NARAL's refusal to become involved in the fight against David Duke's Nazi-esque efforts to demonstrates and reinforces the ideas of poor blacks (especially women) as "untouchables" --a true undercaste. Involving or advocating for this group is seen as politically detrimental or detracting from a larger issue.

This IS the larger issue though. Attempts to mainstream or make policy more palatable by appealing to a more conservative, white audience will always keep poor blacks on the periphery. I am frankly disgusted with the racial apathy that has existed in the feminist movement. As Wise notes, racism, classism and sexism intersect constantly (140). To isolate one form of oppression is to be dishonest.

There has been sexism in the fight for racial equality, and racism in the struggle for women's rights. According to Wise's account, there is a fair amount of classism in the feminist movement as well. I would argue that classism and racism are the most closely associated forms of oppression, because we are trained to view black as synonymous with poor, and vice versa.