RACIAL PROFILING WORRIES PARENTS

Donna and Jose Moreno, of Hyattsville, are so afraid that their two sons,
Marcos and Jose, may be wrongly arrested in Prince George's County that
they've purchased prepaid legal assistance allowing the youths instant
access to a lawyer.

Sybrenda and Paul Queen, of Capitol Heights, showed their son, Paul Jr., a
movie about students who encountered police during a school protest to
demonstrate how even well-meaning youths can fall victim to police brutality.

Corenne and Elgie Labbe, of Upper Marlboro, are concerned that police might
erroneously identify their three teenage sons as troublemakers so she won't
allow them to ride in the car with other male teenagers or wear baggy jeans
associated with the hip-hop culture.

It's the fear of black parents across the country--that their sons will be
harassed, beaten or killed by police, solely because they are black.

But in Prince George's the fear of racial profiling and excessive use of
force by police has been particularly high, say parents and community
leaders, after a series of incidents in the past 16 months in which county
police have shot 12 people, killing five. Five of those wounded and four of
those killed were black men.

The most recent incident occurred Sept. 1 when Howard University student
Prince C. Jones Jr., 25, was fatally shot by a plainclothes Prince George's
County police officer who followed Jones to Northern Virginia in an
unmarked vehicle.

The shootings have spurred an investigation by the U.S. Justice Department,
making the Prince George's County police department one 13 law enforcement
agencies ever to face such a wide-ranging probe.

Although there are as yet no findings showing that Prince George's police
engage in racial profiling, some parents in the majority-black county say
they feel caught in a painful paradox. While their successes have made the
county a national model for black middle-class achievement, they said they
fear that at any moment police could mistake them or their children for
criminals.

"I realize that despite the fact that I'm a professor and an active,
contributing member of society, there is no safe place for me or him," said
Clyde Woods, who teaches Afro-American Studies at the University of
Maryland and lives with his 15-year-old son, Malik, in Greenbelt.

Many African American parents in Prince George's have been reluctant to
publicly criticize police for fear of hindering crime fighting in a county
with a crime rate second only to the District in the region. But in the
privacy of their homes, those same parents have not hesitated to speak to
their sons about avoiding the perils of "DWB--Driving While Black."

For Donna Moreno, the Prince Jones shooting felt uncomfortably familiar.
Her 18-year-old son, Marcos, was stopped by campus police during a
recruiting trip last school year to the University of Maryland at College
Park, she said.

Marcos said he was waiting in line at a concession stand when two police
officers approached him.

"They said someone had told them that someone who matched my description
had been doing drugs in the line," recalled Marcos, an honor student at
Northwestern High School in Hyattsville.

Then, in plain sight of dozens of people, Moreno said he was searched and
questioned. When the officers finished, they didn't apologize, he said.

"It made me very angry," Marcos said. ". . . I didn't do anything, but
[police] treated me like that anyway."

Capt. Paul Dillon, of the campus police at College Park, confirmed that
Marcos was questioned and searched Feb. 26 at Cole Field House after an
unidentified witness told police they had seen a black man snorting cocaine
in the line. But Dillon said the officers apologized to Marcos when they
didn't find anything.

The incident greatly disturbed Donna Moreno. But the Jones shooting spurred
her to act.

She recently purchased prepaid legal assistance for Marcos and Jose, 22,
from Pre-paid Legal Services Inc., of Ada, Okla. Company officials say they
have 45,000 clients in the Washington area, many of them black parents.

"I pray whenever they go out," Moreno said of her sons. "I am really
worried about the false arrests in the county. . . . It is very scary."

Sybrenda Queen is so afraid for her son, Paul, 14, that she already has
decided not to buy him the sports car he had been coveting for his 16th
birthday.

"He's always been big for his age and stands out in a crowd," Queen said.

To help the teenager understand just how quickly things can spin out of
control with police, she and her husband required him to watch the 1999
movie "Light It Up." In the film starring Usher Raymond and Forest
Whitaker, police and students clash violently after the students take over
their high school.

"We wanted to make him understand that when someone is stopped by the
police is not the time to try and defend themselves," Sybrenda Queen said.

Like many of the parents interviewed for this article, the Queens' concern
about the recent spate of shootings in Prince George's has been intensified
by their own painful encounters with police. Paul Queen Sr., 36, recalls
when he was frisked, handcuffed and arrested by Prince George's police as
an 11-year-old after a store manager wrongly accused him of stealing an
18-cent candy bar.

"They took me to the Seat Pleasant station and cuffed me to a pole," Paul
Queen said. "I stayed there for several hours before my parents got me out."

"P.G. has always had a real bad reputation," he said. "When I was in high
school . . . the joke was that if you get in trouble, don't get in trouble
in P.G., because those cops will kill you."

Prince George's County Police Chief John S. Farrell acknowledges that
"there is a perception" that young black males are unfairly targeted by
county police officers. But he said it is unfounded.

"If you ask me if there is a perception that young African American males
are at risk, the answer is yes," Farrell said. "But we're doing outreach
for just those reasons."

He noted that complaints against police officers as a whole are down this
year. He also said the department has taken measures to dispel the
perception that they unfairly target black youths, including organizing
police academies to show residents how officers are trained.

The department's racial composition has changed since Paul Queen Sr.'s
childhood, when Prince George's County was predominantly white and its
mostly white male force was viewed by many African Americans as racist and
brutal. Now, more than half the rank and file are women and minorities,
according to department statistics.

Nor do all of recent police shootings fit the white cop/black citizen
stereotype. Of the 12 people who were shot by police in the past 16 months,
nine were black men, one a black woman, one a white male and one a Latino male.

Although a similar breakdown for the 19 officers involved in those
shootings is not available, some of them were black.

But the Rev. C. Anthony Muse, pastor of Ark of Safety Christian Church in
Oxon Hill, said the diversion from stereotype does not offer much comfort
to black parents.

When looking at the relationship between police and black youth, black
parents "don't see black and white. They see blue," Muse said.

A vocal critic of the police department, Muse said the number of parents
who have come to him to discuss fears that their sons will be mistreated by
police has risen significantly in the past year.

Many black parents despair over their inability to protect their children,
said Woods, who has researched the subject of race and police.

"Some of my students have said my generation has failed them," said Woods.
" . . .They wonder to what extent there is progress when you have to beg
for your life on a random encounter with a public servant."

Woods said he and his son, a sophomore at Eleanor Roosevelt High School in
Greenbelt, moved to the county from State College, Pa., a few weeks before
Prince Jones was shot. In the wake of the shooting, Woods counseled Malik,
tempering his words to make his son aware, but not paranoid.

Recalling the conversation, Malik said: "He was told not to do anything to
get noticed."

Malik said he is worried about encountering police when he starts driving.

"It concerns me a lot that I may face unjust prosecution," he said. "But
it's something that you have to deal with when it confronts you. You can't
plan for it."

Woods said concern over police brutality "causes a lot of stress" for black
parents.

"You hope you're doing the best with your kids, you want your kids to be
outgoing and aggressive in attaining knowledge and not feel limited," Woods
said. "But on the other hand, you tell them about that part of society
where they have to deal with vicious stereotypes based solely on the color
of their skin. You become a walking contradiction."

That feeling of helplessness has led some black parents to convey to their
sons a strict protocol for dealings with police, right down to the clothing
they should wear and the way they should reach for their registration when
asked.

When stopped by police, keep your hands on the steering wheel, Corenne
Labbe, of Upper Marlboro, urges her sons, Elgie III, 16- and 15-year-old
twins, Niilante and Kashka.

When the officer approaches, she told them, be polite, no matter what. "Say
'Officer, I'm going to reach into my glove compartment to retrieve my
registration,' then do not move unless the officer indicates it is okay."

Move slowly, Labbe explains to her sons. Maintain eye contact.

A grant writer for the Prince George's Office of Public Safety, Labbe also
talks to her children about how their appearance can influence the way
police interact with them. They are not allowed to wear their pants sagging
or their hair too long.

"I've told them we get judged because of the way we look," Labbe said.
"Police don't see youth in the faces of our children. They see criminals."

After a discussion with his players about the police shootings recently,
Northwestern High School varsity football coach Ed Shields instructed them
on how to act during encounters with police.

"I compare it to dealing with me and the teachers," Shields said. "They
have to do what we say, so they need to follow that when they are dealing
with the police. Later is when they can argue their case."

Donna Moreno is leaving nothing to chance. Her sons' prepaid legal
assistance plan includes a card for them to show police if stopped.

"This person is a member of Legal Shield program and has 24-hour telephone
access to legal representation," the card reads. "If it is your intention
to question, detain or arrest me, please allow me to call an attorney
immediately."

"They are good kids, law abiding. But, still, I want them to be protected,"
Donna Moreno said.