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If I saw the above group of men, wearing hoodies, walking down the street, I would cross the street.
I'm not proud of it, but it's completely what I would do.
I have very strong opinions about the Trayvon Martin case, but others have articulated more clearly than I possibly could about Florida's ridiculous stand your ground law, the ludicrously lax gun laws in this country, and the general incompetence of the Sanford police department in managing their public image.
I come to write about race, something I feel completely uncomfortable writing about, a white midwestern woman living in a small city (town?) with a 96% white population. If it isn't clear to you from what I've written in the past, I am a left-leaning atheist pacifist, a firm believer in raising taxes, and a dreamer who dreams that someday my nieces and nephews will live in a world in which the country they live in isn't at war. I try to be a good liberal - I ride my bike instead of driving, I do my part to save the Earth by using reusable grocery bags and unplugging all our appliances except the refrigerator at night, I volunteer on a regular basis for a women's shelter, and I read the news with the critical view of someone who studied political science at the University of Minnesota. I want to be a good liberal, but sometimes I fail.
Here's what my education has taught me. The majority of inmates in jail are minorities. One in ten black men in their twenties is in jail. Blacks commit more than half of the violent crimes in this country despite being only 12.6% of the population. I spent more hours than I can count in courtrooms watching black men plead guilty to crime after crime. I can talk about (oh, and have) the historical context for this. I can talk about the indignities African Americans have suffered in the past, the cycles of poverty and violence, and the bureaucratic walls put in place that keep many from black communities from accessing help and education.
I've worked with victims of domestic violence from these communities. I've taught children who lived in these communities. I've looked into the face of a man who admitted to armed robbery as he consoled his sobbing mother and told her it would be okay. I spent hours on the phone trying to help a twenty year old man find educational opportunities for that day when he aged out of the system.
So it is with a heavy heart that I admit that I would cross the street. Because that same young man who I worked with for hours to find help? If he put on a hoodie and I saw him on a dark, rainy night? I would do everything in my power to avoid him. I would assume the worst and act on it. I've debated with myself on this - is it just being smart since I know the statistics on violence or is it being racist? I don't know, but either way, the liberal in me hates me.
I would not pull out a gun and shoot him in cold blood, but that's another story, I guess.
Unfortunately, even an independent like myself has to admit the same feelings. When I had two African-American women using what I was sure were stolen credit cards at my work one night, I didn't challenge them because their behavior had been aggressive and scary. It was very late at night, right before we closed, and whenever I asked what they thought was a prying question, they would become really quiet and tell me they weren't going to answer that.
ReplyDeleteI often question whether I would have felt as scared if they had been Caucasian (I've decided if I don't say 'black' I don't say 'white'). I feel ashamed of myself when I realize I might have been a bit more forceful about needing their IDs had they been Caucasian. But I really felt they were dangerous. I try to convince myself I would have felt the same vibe from any customer using the words and gestures they were using, but I just can't be sure.
I had to report the incident to my company and to the police, and the frustrating thing about it was that in one breath my company told me I did the right thing because my safety is more important than anything, but in another breath sent out an e-mail the next day reminding everyone it was mandatory to check IDs. I think they did that so we would begin checking all IDs (something no business does anymore), but I know I would still not have checked the IDs of those two women.
Growing up in a neighborhood that was 60% black, I still crossed the street. Or prayed, "Don't let them notice me." Sure I learned ways to turn tricky situations and bond with people who started out to mess with me, but it would be silly to assume safety based on that. On the flip side though, I was never more scared than when I lived on the main drag in a college town and had to walk by drunken groups of white guys on my way to the apartment.
ReplyDeleteIn The Gift of Fear, the author challenges women to ask the men in their lives when they last feared for their safety. For most it's years, or at most months ago. For most women, there's been a time in the last couple days. There's a place for healthy fear. Yet when the line is crossed from avoiding into aggression/rage then things go horribly wrong.
Like LDJ, I often think about this in terms of how I'd react if the person's race were different. I *believe* that if I saw a person who was behaving erratically or in a threatening manner, or who was dressed in a way designed to keep his identity under wraps, or who was acting suspiciously, that I would react the same way, no matter that person's race. But. I don't know.
ReplyDeleteAs OTRgirl pointed out, as women, we have a whole set of other factors to consider beyond race in assessing potential danger. We're also taught to fear.
ReplyDeleteThe other night, I was standing out in front of my apartment building in our busy urban neighborhood, when a Hispanic man in a hoodie rounded the corner across the street from me. At first, I felt that familiar flutter of fear for no reason other than it was dark and he was a man. And then, something interesting happened. Another man, in shorts and a t-shirt - a white man - rounded the same corner, walking very fast...aggressively fast, behind the first man. And I was afraid for the man in the hoodie.
Nothing happened, of course. But it made me stop and think about my reactions. First, I was afraid for me. Then I was afraid for the man of color I was afraid of moments before. Yikes.
Excellent post. I have a hard time with racism too. Because I don't really discriminate on race, but on education. and I know that a lot of poor inner city schools that serve largely poor minority students have very limited resources, and not enough parent involvement, to give these kids the education they need to be successful in this world.
ReplyDeletei admire your honesty. i agree it is important to confront these feelings... and then to work hard rid of them. i cannot even begin to imagine the violence and the fear of violence faced by black men every day...
ReplyDeletengs, i have been thinking about this post an awful lot. i think about young black and brown boys like my 3 nephews who will grow up to be profiled as scary black and brown men. whenever white people confront these unwanted feelings in ourselves (as we are products of a white supremacist society), we have to remember these men are someone's little ones. much love xx
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