EASIER TO LAMENT PROFILING THAN END IT

Contrary to popular opinion, the practice of police officers' singling
out specific classes of motorists for harassment is not new. It's just
that the class has changed. In the '60s and early '70s, most of the
motorists who were pulled over were bell-bottomed and tie-dyed. I can
recall sitting in an outdoor cafe near Dupont Circle in Washington and
watching with revulsion as officers yanked two kids from a car, threw
them against the door and started slapping them silly. As far as I
could tell, their only crime was wearing their hair
shoulder-length.

It wasn't until a lawyer sitting nearby approached the officers and
demanded their badge numbers that the bullying stopped and the kids
were allowed to leave, shaken and slightly worse for wear.

A few weeks ago, I was driving down a main street in my hometown when
I neared a checkpoint where employees of the state Department of Motor
Vehicles were stopping motorists and looking for expired
auto-emissions stickers and other obvious abuses.

I was waved through. But it was impossible not to notice that the four
drivers who had been pulled over were all under the age of 21. Could
it be that the only car owners who don't have their vehicles inspected
and/or wear seat belts tend to watch ``Dawson's Creek''? Or is it more
likely that the officers were inclined, whether consciously or not, to
give young adults rather than old geezers the once-over?

I vote for the latter.

Police officers target certain drivers. They may deny it, but their
disavowals ring hollow. Racial profiling exists. It's wrong. We know
it's wrong. But it's easier to lament profiling than it is to stop
it.

A dozen states, including Connecticut, are trying. But the experiences
of Maryland and New Jersey have proven just how hard it is to end this
repugnant practice.

Maryland has been grappling with the problem since 1992 when state
troopers - who were following department guidelines that singled out
black males who drove expensive cars - illegally pulled over and
searched a black lawyer. After that embarrassing incident, state
police began keeping detailed records of motorist stops.

But the discriminatory targeting continued. Court records show that
between 1995 and 1997, three-quarters of those who were detained by
state police were black, even though they make up only 14 percent of
Maryland's motorists. Today, a class-action lawsuit is pending in
federal district court.

In New Jersey, prosecutors have recommended dropping drug and weapons
charges against 21 motorists because the two state troopers who
arrested them have been indicted on charges that they singled out
black and Hispanic drivers and then engaged in an illegal cover-up.

A full-blown investigation is being conducted by the attorney
general's office amid concerns that dozens of convictions of minority
motorists could be overturned. Altogether, a dozen troopers may face
criminal charges on grounds they falsified records.

In Connecticut, three white police officers have fatally shot blacks
in the last two years and some police departments have admitted they
single out minority motorists for stops. Overall, racial tensions have
heated up. Meanwhile, lawmakers have been struggling to deal with the
problem in a way that's not merely symbolic.

That's caused friction between House and Senate members, particularly
Sen. Alvin W. Penn of Bridgeport, the author of a racial profiling
bill, and Rep. Michael P. Lawlor of East Haven, who claimed Penn's
bill was meaningless and riddled with loopholes. Lawlor, co-chairman
of the Judiciary Committee, wanted something workable and
far-reaching.

``We need to send a clear signal to everybody that the perception of
systemic unfairness [to minorities] has become a huge problem and we
need to address it up front,'' said Lawlor, who sat down last week
with Penn to hash out a compromise.

They came up with a three-pronged attack. First, they agreed to put
some teeth in Penn's bill, which passed the Senate but was destined to
die in the House.

Basically, the measure would require police departments to adopt
policies forbidding racial profiling and compile data on who is being
stopped and why. That information will be collected and analyzed by a
central authority. If police agencies don't comply, they'd forfeit
state funding.

Second, Lawlor and Penn drafted a bill to establish a statewide policy
on high-speed police pursuits, as opposed to the patchwork that's now
in place across the state. A similar bid for a uniform policy failed
last year.

And third, they intend to create a commission on racial and ethnic
disparities in the criminal justice system, with an eye toward
determining whether the deck is stacked against minorities in
sentencing and punishment. The panel also would be charged with
recommending ways to reduce the disproportionate number of blacks and
Hispanics in state jails.

In the end, Connecticut may not be any more successful than Maryland
and New Jersey in stopping the abhorrent practice of targeting
minority motorists or in restoring credibility to the criminal justice
system. But Lawlor and Penn, having buried their hatchets and put
their heads together, are giving it a shot.

Michele Jacklin is The Courant's political columnist. Her column
appears every Wednesday and Friday. Her e-mail address is
jacklin@courant.com