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News (Media Awareness Project) - US CA: Column: Walk A Mile In Black Shoes Before Denying
Title:US CA: Column: Walk A Mile In Black Shoes Before Denying
Published On:1999-10-03
Source:San Jose Mercury News (CA)
Fetched On:2008-09-05 18:48:28
WALK A MILE IN BLACK SHOES BEFORE DENYING RACIAL PROFILING

Gray Davis has been a white male all of his life and walked in white
male shoes.

My sons have been black males all of theirs and walked in black male
shoes.

I suppose that is why Davis said the bill to measure the scope of
racial profiling would be too costly. He didn't understand what it has
cost African-American males and other males of color in this society.

I don't suppose the good governor ever came home in tears and begged
his parents not to make him ride his bike, towing his little sister's
along to pick her up from an after-school program. He never had to
feel he'd rather die than have the police stop him one more time to
inquire about where he may have stolen the bike.

I don't suppose Gray Davis had sons repeatedly stopped by police and
questioned because they were driving their parents' upscale sedan.
They didn't have to endure the ``explanation'' that the officers were
searching for a stolen car of the same make and color. Burgundy
Jaguars and green vans were stolen with astonishing frequency on this
low-crime Peninsula.

To their credit, the past two Palo Alto police chiefs were extremely
cooperative in addressing this problem that my sons and our friends'
son endured when it happened on their turf.

I don't suppose the governor knows how the heart pounds and how
sickening helplessness mounts in a kid who knows he is targeted over
and over for no good reason.

My sons were no goody-two-shoes drivers. They exceeded the speed limit
and each got the ticket he deserved.

Speeding is a valid reason to be stopped. DWB -- driving while black
- -- is not, and it is painful and scarring.

The damage is cumulative. It builds from fear and hurt to a slow
mounting rage at the inequity. Then one day, an officer stops someone
and the pot boils over. The young adult lashes out in frustration and
the parents go to a funeral.

That is the fear of many African-American parents.

Girls are not exempt. My daughter, then a Cal student, had her path
blocked by a police car as she walked in downtown Palo Alto and was
harshly questioned as a suspected witness to a homicide and drug
trafficking.

Listen to me, Gray Davis. I am talking to you as a
mother.

Racial profiling is damaging our kids. History has made it hard to
teach our children that the police are our friends, but many of us do.
We try not to bring old baggage to new times.

But frankly, most African-Americans I know -- no matter how educated
and sophisticated -- have some degree of submerged fear of police.

You need to be stopped on the highway for ``stealing'' a car and then
after a nitpicking search for cause, eventually be ticketed for a worn
left tire.

You need to be followed by a store clerk as my sons were and asked to
produce a sales slip. Then protest that indignity, as my husband and I
did, and be told that your kind steals.

And you wonder why one day, some quiet, law-abiding person goes
violently berserk. Sometimes you feel like you've paid enough and it
is time for someone else to pay.

You don't know what it means to be black in America, Governor --
ironically, the best country I know.

I can trace my family, born in America, two generations into slavery
before the trail disappears into bondage's sick system.

We have a stake in America and we are going to insist that America do
the right thing.

I'm talking about my college-educated, good-mannered, high-tech
employed, sport coat and tie-wearing son, questioned because he was
standing in front of his own Palo Alto home at night.

I'm talking about the African-American journalist in the newsroom here
- -- polite and talented -- stopped for DWB.

You say there is no evidence of widespread racial profiling. Well, I
have lived in five states, traveled in many and been black in all of
them. Give me a break.

Blacken your skin, coarsen your hair and step into my sons' shoes.
Then tell me who pays the cost.
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