In San Francisco, Leonard Milo Hoskins was allegedly killed by his housemate, Richard Carelli. Hoskins’ sister reported her brother’s disappearance, but no one investigated until nearly a month later. When the police finally did arrive on the scene, they interrogated Carelli and his girlfriend, Michelle Pinkerton, but then decided to let them leave the house, even after they found blood smears and after the police dog showed an interest in a van parked out front. The officers seized the van, but it took them a week to search it and find Hoskin’s deceased body inside. Of course, Carelli and Pinkerton are now on the run. Hmm….Clearly, this investigation was handled in an incompetent matter. Clearly, a fair judicial process will need to explore the multiple failures that seem apparent in this case. But while this process is running its course, there is another elephant in the room: race.

Carelli and his girlfriend are a young white couple. Hoskins was a middle-aged African American man. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, between 1976 and 2005, white-on-black homicides rose by 1.2%. Since this story first broke, a number of my friends and colleagues have asked me, rather rhetorically, if the police would have let an African American couple leave the house if they were investigating the murder of a white person. Well, one can only speculate.

The truth is that this problem has much deeper roots than just the modern-day fumble of a city police department. In 1975, Robert Staples wrote an interesting article in which he discussed American justice through a colonial lens, using this framework to explain differential treatment and understandings of law and order. In that article, Staples references a survey which showed that the majority of white police officers hold anti-Black attitudes. In this study conducted by Albert Reiss, Jr., over 75% of white police officers expressed “highly prejudiced” feelings toward African Americans. We hope that in 2008, the racial attitudes of police officers have improved, but recent social science research suggests otherwise. In a study conducted by Michael Smith and Geoffrey Alpert, the authors suggest that biases remain among law enforcement officers, often as a function of social programming and stereotyping. So, biases may not be intentional; but they are still there.

In a country where the race of the victim determines the likelihood of one being charged for murder and sentenced to death, we must raise questions. In a country where the investigation of murders of African American men have historically been considered a low priority, this latest case of police negligence is not only disturbing but unacceptable. We cannot tolerate this type of “misstep,” nor can we remain silent when our society’s first agents of justice take a week–or much, much longer–to really investigate a murder. In a wealthy, global city like San Francisco, where African American men are murdered at disproportionately high rates compared to their percentage of the population, we have to demand that the health and safety of this segment of our community become a priority. And we have to exercise our civic duty to hold law enforcement agencies accountable for the ways in which their decisions, actions, and policies, can obstruct the administration of equal justice. This is not about finger-pointing. This is about healing.

Rest in peace, Mr. Hoskins, and others like you who have been victimized by violence. Like many others, I’ll be following the Hoskins case with great interest.

It happened again! Controversial photos have recently surfaced showing assistant secretary of Homeland Security, Julie Myers, at a 2007 Halloween party posing next to a white man in darkened skin, a striped prison costume and a dreadlock wig—once again exposing an all too recurrent theme in our culture. According to a CNN report, which aired on February 7th, Julie Myers thought the get-up was hilarious enough to award it “most original costume.” CNN reports that it received over 100 photos showing inappropriate costumes worn by public employees during the Halloween party—many of them too inappropriate to distribute. Myers responded by issuing an apology, saying that she did not know the person was in blackface.

Unfortunately, federal officials and employees are not the only one ones who find this type of humor hard to resist. After almost every Halloween, my inbox is flooded with photos of white college students dressed up (or down) to emulate negative stereotypes associated with people of color. And with every new picture I see, my stomach turns. With each one, I think about the over-reporting of African American crime in the news. I think about the way in which the “crime segment” of virtually all television media seems to follow a formula that clusters news about African Americans with crime, even if incidents are unrelated. I am reminded of the vigilant fight of African American social justice activists like Ida B. Wells, who wrote in 1892 of white men who committed robberies in Vicksburg, Mississippi with their faces blackened—a trend which led to both wrongful convictions and elevated rates of reporting regarding the criminal activity of African American men.

Plus il est changement, plus qu’il est le même—or, in other words, ain’t nothin’ changed.

The painful and dehumanizing history of minstrelsy aside, this type of inflammatory “joke” reminds us that while many would like to believe that the legacy of American racism is absent from our public leadership, its ugly head shows up every now and again to make sure we’re still paying attention. What is interesting and perplexing about this whole scenario is that the more we hang on to notions of “racial” inferiority, the more science disproves the notion of biological “racial” differences at all.

So, if “race” is a purely social construct, in other words created by the social environment, then we should be able to design a strategy to eliminate the xenophobic humor that reveals latent biases that could potentially have an impact on how certain key leaders administer justice. If Julie Myers, and her staff, believe that: 1) the typical prototype of criminality is a person with dark skin and dreadlocks; and 2) to dress up in such offensive costume is funny and worthy of award, we have every right to raise serious questions about their ability to function as agents of Homeland Security in a fair and impartial manner. In today’s society, feigning ignorance is not an excuse for rewarding racism. If a public official cannot show sound judgment—even during a Halloween Costume Party—he or she does not deserve to lead in this capacity.

As we continue to celebrate Black History Month this February, let us be reminded that it is our collective responsibility to honor the legacy and contributions of people of African descent in this country. Clearly, more public education is needed not only to, as Dr. Carter G. Woodson claimed, unlock the mind of the “Mis-educated” person of African descent; but also to free the slave imprinted on the minds of others.

Resources

The Mis-Education of the Negro by Carter G. Woodson

African American Classics in Criminology & Criminal Justice , edited by S. Gabbidon, H. Taylor Green, and V. Young

From the very beginning of this presidential race, political commentary has focused on the symbolic value of having a person of African descent or woman in the White House. Of course, what people mean by “symbolic value” seems to fluctuate as we approach November. Early on, other candidates in the presidential race conceded that Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton both carry great symbolic value, a sentiment echoed by Sen. Clinton during the January 31st debate in Los Angeles. And we can’t forget (though, Lord knows I’m trying) the horrendous display of comedian and political commentator Bill Maher, as he performed a loosely minstrel dance to comment on the symbolic value of having a so-called “better dancer” in the White House, should Sen. Obama win in November.

For a while, I have found this emphasis on the “symbolism” of the Democratic presidential bid both puzzling and intriguing. On one hand, I worry that our emphasis on the symbolic value of these candidates distracts us from carefully analyzing their views and approaches to key issues. At the end of the day, what is most important is that the President not serve as a figurehead, but that he or she provide the kind of leadership, intelligence, focus, and integrity that is desperately needed at this time. On the other hand, I understand how profoundly important this moment is to have a different visual bidding for the nation’s highest position of leadership.

Just yesterday, while sitting in traffic and watching a gathering of women wave “Vote For Obama” signs on street corners, my six-year old daughter asked me why there has never been an African American or woman as President of the United States. I struggled with how to answer her questions without upsetting her delicate understanding of race and gender politics. Her understanding of race is largely informed by her own multi-racial family, which includes people of African, European, Asian, and American Indian descent. Her understanding of gender differences really do not extend beyond the “girls’ club” and the “boys’ club” on the schoolyard. While I thought about how to respond, she grew more adamant.

“So, there have only been white men?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“That’s not fair…”
“Well, that’s one of the reasons we’re all excited about this election.”
“Mommy,” she asked. “Can I roll down my window?”

After I agreed, she rolled down her window and waved at the women holding the signs. “Vote for Obama!” she yelled, prompting affirming smiles, waves, and return screams of “Vote for Obama!”

I drove on home, leaving behind the honking horns of rush hour traffic, but secretly grateful that unlike me, my children are growing up with significant political images of greatness and achievement. I remember being in middle school when Jesse Jackson ran for president, and sure, that was important. But as an adult and mother, I can now see the hope for a new day in eyes that are untainted by cynicism, frustration, and a lack of confidence in America’s political processes. I now have the privilege to see through the beautiful brown eyes of a six-year old child angered by the idea of historical exclusion, and excited by the idea of change.

On this Super Tuesday morning, my daughter asked if she could wear a “Vote For Obama” pin to school. I said, “Of course!” and proudly pinned a button displaying Barack Obama’s smiling face to her sweater. When I looked up, she was standing there beaming–proud to be participating in this political process the only way she can. Maybe one day, she’ll remember how proud she was to wear the pin when she casts her first vote for president. Maybe one day, she’ll remember the pin as a symbol of her first real political statement about the need for fairness and equity. Or maybe those are just her gifts to me.

Today is Super Tuesday, folks…VOTE!

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