Having been employed by Andronico’s Community Market for 8 years, I wanted to share with you my story and give a voice to the voiceless; employees who have dedicated years of their life to this company, and consequently, they need to be heard and you need to hear their story.
Andronico’s Community Markets had been struggling mightily for the last few years, given poor management and leadership from the very top, the overextending and building of new stores that ended up being closed (and sold for pennies on the dollar), the recession in the early part of this decade and the competition from Whole Foods, Berkeley Bowl, Monterey Market and Trader Joe’s. Additionally, Andronico’s has never wanted to address its pricing structure and as a result, has consistently been undercut by the competition.
In the summer of 2010, Bill Andronico brought in a so-called “top-notch” team (most were high in management at Whole Foods) to help turn the franchise around. Given my discussions with this leadership team, they said that they would give it a year. They didn’t say what would happen in a year if they could not turn it around. But that’s where the next part of this story takes place.
In early September 2011, a majority of employees (I worked at the Solano Store) were gathered in the employee lunchroom and informed by our Operations Manager, Sean Thomas, that Andronico's Community Markets had officially filed for bankruptcy that morning. We were all assured at that time that we all still had jobs, and as events unfolded, we would be kept in the loop and our status would be updated accordingly.
When we were updated about a week later we were told the following: that we were all going to be terminated and then officially rehired by the new company, with a 30-day probationary period, a 5% pay cut, and a mandatory drug test. After the 30-day period, we would be notified if we passed probation and were to be retained as employees.
In the week of October 9th – October 15th, all employees were "reinterviewed." This process was chaotic, to say the least. All 300+ employees were reinterviewed in the course of 3-4 days, with 3 members of the HR Department and one store director conducting 15 minute interviews, one right after another. The questions were straightforward, questions that normally would be asked in an interview. But then a question was asked that immediately raised a red flag for me. That question was: “Have you had any disciplinary procedures brought against you within the past 6 months?” Given the sequence of questions that had been asked in the interview process, I felt that question was incongruent. I felt that question was being inserted to have an additional criteria/reason to terminate an employee, but still be within the bounds of legality (more on that in future blogs).
During that same week (October 9th-15th) and the following week (October 16th-October 22nd), ALL of the Andronico’s Market stores were interviewing for new employees. Numerous employees in other stores informed me that the interviews were nonstop, from 9am in the morning to 5 or 6pm in the afternoon. Given this development, employees questioned: Why would they be interviewing so many people if they assured us that we were going to be employed through the official “change of ownership” transition? Since I, like most employees, could not answer that question, we just let it go and trusted that the bankruptcy proceedings and Bill Andronico had our best interests in mind.
The official change in ownership happened on Thursday October 27, 2011. Andronico’s was officially sold to Renovo Capital (an equity company out of Reno, Nevada). At 4:47pm in the afternoon, my cell phone rings and it's my store director and assistant store director on speakerphone. I am told: "The new company is changing hands as of midnight tonight and they are not offering you a position at this time."
I will say here that I was one of the fortunate ones. At least I got a phone call and was spoken to directly. There were employees that reported to me that a message was left on their answering machine. Two employees in particular told me that they were asked to work late because of a shift shortage, then told 7 minutes after the store closed that they were no longer employed as of midnight.
I want to keep this story in the news because of the labor issues involved and also the deplorable ethical standards used by Bill Andronico and Renovo Capital to decide what employees to retain and which employees to let go. Basically, employees were mislead, or to put it bluntly, lied to. They knew all along that they were going to lay off close to 25% of the work force, and most of that 25% being journeymen, meaning the top of the labor pay scale. Why else would they be interviewing employee’s non-stop for 2-3 days? These new employees would be brought in and paid entry-level wage. So, from a strictly economic standpoint, their thinking is to get rid of as many journeymen as possible, employ entry level wage employees, and close as many stores as need be to make the franchise profitable.
And here’s another question. What will be the criteria used to decide what employees to retain in 30 days, when the “probationary” period has expired (and the 30 days is fast approaching)? Will that be the same criteria used in the first round of layoffs? Will most of the employees laid off be journeyman again? Right now, you have employees who are scared, insecure and definitely not working up to their potential because they are just trying to keep under the radar, hoping that in 30 days they still have a job. There are also employees that have been fired in the last 30 days for no reason other than the fact that they are on 30-day probation. Hopefully, the union will be able to address their issues promptly and fairly. But the union is in a delicate position because they have an ongoing relationship with the new company that they have to honor and protect.
What has happened to Andronico employees is not unique. It is happening all over the country right now. But what does make this situation unique is that a most of the employees that were laid off were dedicated employees, some of them having worked their whole employed life at Andronico’s. And the bottom line was that they should have been treated better. They should not have been informed 5-6 hours before midnight that they did not have a job. And the employees that had more than 10 years with the company (some employees having 20+ years) should have been given some sort of severance package (the excuse used of course was that they are bankrupt). Ironically (and sadly) Bill Andronico has consistently stated over the years, both publicly and privately, how we Andronico’s employees are “family.” Is this the way you treat family? If so, maybe the employees that are still employed by Andronico’s should file for adoption.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Is There Any One Way To Be Black?
No, of course not. There is no one way to be black. We have pundits that try to pigeon-hole it, to make people (and of course) society feel that there is just one way out there. Also, let's not forget the role of stereotypes. Stereotypes have been consistent and successful in institutionalizing that one-way view. And, of course, the paradox about stereotypes is that there is a part of them that is true.
When I was six years old, I remember hearing two words on the radio quite often. Those words were guerrilla and Negro. I had been to the Bronx Zoo with my family a few times, so I thought I knew what a guerrilla was. Much to my surprise, after asking my father, I found out it wasn't the kind of animal I had in mind.
"Well then, what is a guerrilla?" I asked.
"The guerrilla they were talking about on the radio is a liberation fighter. As I explained to you before, there are all kinds of wars going on around the world, and this "guerrilla" wages war differently than what you see on television or have been taught in school."
"OK. And what is a Negro?" I asked.
"Look in the mirror," my father said tersely.
The curtness of his answer both surprised and shocked me. But being that I had politically active parents, I came to realize that something was terribly wrong with a society that puts distinctions on individuals or groups based solely on color. I was also grateful that my parents encouraged me as a youth to work with my peers to design “rap” sessions and workshops that seriously addressed the questions of the day. As the next few years of my life unfolded, through these rap sessions and informal workshops with my peers, I realized that as a "Negro," in order to be considered equal to white people, I would have to spend much of my time de-emphasizing the distinction of color. This realization was very painful for me because I had also been taught to appreciate the distinction of color as it related to cultural achievement and pride.
These experiences brought me full circle insofar as developing, as a teenager, working models for social change. But interestingly, within that context, I started to see that there was not one way to be black. There were so many ways black folk were expressing "themselves." Some were productive, some were mysterious and lost, some were profound, some were negative, and some were just too real.
Funny. I had a choice of "blackness" to pick from. And I have chosen all of them in my life. Some were safe. Some were familiar. Some I just hung on to (and still hang on to to this day) because I was and am too scared to venture out on my own and define it for myself. It is safer sometimes to let dominant culture define it for me. That way, I don't have to discover my path or the truth. But within this context WAS how I looked at change. Was I comfortable in my black skin? At that age, yes, but no too. I admit that I was working the stereotypes; the good ones to help define my blackness, the negatives one internalizing. As a teenager, I knew or had a more intellectual understanding of change. I knew that if change is inevitable, I needed to direct the change instead of just watching it pass on by. I also knew that there was a relationship between consciousness and action, and that it was important to always remember that, even in times of great fear and trepidation.
So yes, I take these lessons forward to this day. And I feel there is positive movement in my quest to define my blackness, but where I still feel diminished/stuck is outside of my inner self, my heart, and in what I allow the larger society to define for me. And I think that I have internalized the subtle values of my white friends/relationships and dominant culture in terms of them shaping my identity instead of shaping it on my own.
I have to understand that my level of understanding attained is the beginning of the change and not the end result of change. I have to be vigilant about what I do once I reach certain levels of political consciousness, and not become complacent because I feel that the work is over and there is no more left to accomplish. Or, that what is left to accomplish is either too hard (internalizing the feeling of being diminished) or too easy (succumbing to white guilt and using it as a negotiating tool with my white friends and my blended family).
In conclusion, I feel that I must take responsibility to develop frameworks that translate historical lessons into a language I can not not only understand, but can mobilize and educate people as well. That would be the best way to define myself as a black person, one with a healthy identity that can't be taken away from me.
When I was six years old, I remember hearing two words on the radio quite often. Those words were guerrilla and Negro. I had been to the Bronx Zoo with my family a few times, so I thought I knew what a guerrilla was. Much to my surprise, after asking my father, I found out it wasn't the kind of animal I had in mind.
"Well then, what is a guerrilla?" I asked.
"The guerrilla they were talking about on the radio is a liberation fighter. As I explained to you before, there are all kinds of wars going on around the world, and this "guerrilla" wages war differently than what you see on television or have been taught in school."
"OK. And what is a Negro?" I asked.
"Look in the mirror," my father said tersely.
The curtness of his answer both surprised and shocked me. But being that I had politically active parents, I came to realize that something was terribly wrong with a society that puts distinctions on individuals or groups based solely on color. I was also grateful that my parents encouraged me as a youth to work with my peers to design “rap” sessions and workshops that seriously addressed the questions of the day. As the next few years of my life unfolded, through these rap sessions and informal workshops with my peers, I realized that as a "Negro," in order to be considered equal to white people, I would have to spend much of my time de-emphasizing the distinction of color. This realization was very painful for me because I had also been taught to appreciate the distinction of color as it related to cultural achievement and pride.
These experiences brought me full circle insofar as developing, as a teenager, working models for social change. But interestingly, within that context, I started to see that there was not one way to be black. There were so many ways black folk were expressing "themselves." Some were productive, some were mysterious and lost, some were profound, some were negative, and some were just too real.
Funny. I had a choice of "blackness" to pick from. And I have chosen all of them in my life. Some were safe. Some were familiar. Some I just hung on to (and still hang on to to this day) because I was and am too scared to venture out on my own and define it for myself. It is safer sometimes to let dominant culture define it for me. That way, I don't have to discover my path or the truth. But within this context WAS how I looked at change. Was I comfortable in my black skin? At that age, yes, but no too. I admit that I was working the stereotypes; the good ones to help define my blackness, the negatives one internalizing. As a teenager, I knew or had a more intellectual understanding of change. I knew that if change is inevitable, I needed to direct the change instead of just watching it pass on by. I also knew that there was a relationship between consciousness and action, and that it was important to always remember that, even in times of great fear and trepidation.
So yes, I take these lessons forward to this day. And I feel there is positive movement in my quest to define my blackness, but where I still feel diminished/stuck is outside of my inner self, my heart, and in what I allow the larger society to define for me. And I think that I have internalized the subtle values of my white friends/relationships and dominant culture in terms of them shaping my identity instead of shaping it on my own.
I have to understand that my level of understanding attained is the beginning of the change and not the end result of change. I have to be vigilant about what I do once I reach certain levels of political consciousness, and not become complacent because I feel that the work is over and there is no more left to accomplish. Or, that what is left to accomplish is either too hard (internalizing the feeling of being diminished) or too easy (succumbing to white guilt and using it as a negotiating tool with my white friends and my blended family).
In conclusion, I feel that I must take responsibility to develop frameworks that translate historical lessons into a language I can not not only understand, but can mobilize and educate people as well. That would be the best way to define myself as a black person, one with a healthy identity that can't be taken away from me.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Van Jones: Barack Obama's Lani Guiner
It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.
Mark Twain
I have always loved Mark Twain. Why? Because he had a way, in his time, of both looking at the world and being at peace with its hypocrisy. But remember, you can be at peace with something, but still have the fire in your belly. The fire in your belly to know that it's your DUTY to make change. To stand up for what's right. To do, as Spike Lee's movie so eloquently said, the right thing.
I wonder sometimes what it takes, in terms of mental fortitude or physical courage, to fall on one's sword. Is character defined by what you allow others to do to you, or is it defined by how you gracefully walk away, knowing that you got the shaft; knowing that in your heart, you were right? In this sense, does physical courage trump moral courage? And I also wonder what it means to be in a position of power (Barack Obama) and know that you are letting someone you respect; someone who's politics you know intimately, get "carved up" by right wing forces, right wing lies and distortions? And even more important, are you too afraid, from a political standpoint, to confidently wave this moral flag with courage, fortitude and ultimately, a sense of deep conviction? A sense of knowing that moral fortitude will trump the lies, distortions and political posturing?
I hate getting transported back in time for THE WRONG REASONS. It was so painful to watch the way Lani Guiner was "carved up" by right wing political forces. I was so disappointed in Bill Clinton right then; I wanted him to stand up and challenge the lies, lies that he knew were operative, distorted and not true. But his "political" calculation was one of sacrificing moral fortitude and moral conviction and standing behind this person, especially if it interfered with moving the larger agenda forward.
Sometimes I wonder, and maybe that is just who I am, sometimes I wonder what would happen or what would have happened if both Bill Clinton and Barack Obama had said: No! I am not going to back down from this character assassination! If that means that my larger agenda gets compromised and goes up in flames, then so be it! But would their larger agenda be compromised? The lack of conviction here does not leave the forces of change necessarily dormant. These historical forces will come back to haunt you, to make sure that you don't go to sleep at night knowing that you denied America a really true patriot. An individual whose ideas would have made a difference in our lives.
Both Bill Clinton and Barack Obama knew clearly the politics, agenda and direction Lani Guiner and Van Jones took in their lives, their paths. They both knew who they were bringing in to their administration's. So it's disingenuous at best to then hang both of them out to dry when you get attacked by the right wing. If you are going to bring them into your administration, then you need to be honest. You need moral conviction and fortitude. You need to understand that the reason you brought them in was that it would help forward your agenda, not compromise it. So, by extension, you have no other choice but to stick up for them, otherwise, you are saying (or inferring) that your agenda is not a true reflection of your leadership, philosophical ideals and moral character.
That's why the way that Barack Obama dealt with the attacks on Van Jones reminded me so much of Bill Clinton. I was transported back in time faster than I had a chance to resist! Why would I want to go back there? Why would I want to be reminded of that time, where I so much hoped that the person who occupied the Oval Office would have the courage to know that standing up to these types of attacks would not only the correct path, but would strengthen the country at the same time? This country has always been strengthened by resistance. Resistance, like competition, goes to the moral center of an individual and challenges the individual to do better, to embrace moral courage and existential fortitude.
Let's all learn from this lesson. If we don't, the third time won't be a charm.
Mark Twain
I have always loved Mark Twain. Why? Because he had a way, in his time, of both looking at the world and being at peace with its hypocrisy. But remember, you can be at peace with something, but still have the fire in your belly. The fire in your belly to know that it's your DUTY to make change. To stand up for what's right. To do, as Spike Lee's movie so eloquently said, the right thing.
I wonder sometimes what it takes, in terms of mental fortitude or physical courage, to fall on one's sword. Is character defined by what you allow others to do to you, or is it defined by how you gracefully walk away, knowing that you got the shaft; knowing that in your heart, you were right? In this sense, does physical courage trump moral courage? And I also wonder what it means to be in a position of power (Barack Obama) and know that you are letting someone you respect; someone who's politics you know intimately, get "carved up" by right wing forces, right wing lies and distortions? And even more important, are you too afraid, from a political standpoint, to confidently wave this moral flag with courage, fortitude and ultimately, a sense of deep conviction? A sense of knowing that moral fortitude will trump the lies, distortions and political posturing?
I hate getting transported back in time for THE WRONG REASONS. It was so painful to watch the way Lani Guiner was "carved up" by right wing political forces. I was so disappointed in Bill Clinton right then; I wanted him to stand up and challenge the lies, lies that he knew were operative, distorted and not true. But his "political" calculation was one of sacrificing moral fortitude and moral conviction and standing behind this person, especially if it interfered with moving the larger agenda forward.
Sometimes I wonder, and maybe that is just who I am, sometimes I wonder what would happen or what would have happened if both Bill Clinton and Barack Obama had said: No! I am not going to back down from this character assassination! If that means that my larger agenda gets compromised and goes up in flames, then so be it! But would their larger agenda be compromised? The lack of conviction here does not leave the forces of change necessarily dormant. These historical forces will come back to haunt you, to make sure that you don't go to sleep at night knowing that you denied America a really true patriot. An individual whose ideas would have made a difference in our lives.
Both Bill Clinton and Barack Obama knew clearly the politics, agenda and direction Lani Guiner and Van Jones took in their lives, their paths. They both knew who they were bringing in to their administration's. So it's disingenuous at best to then hang both of them out to dry when you get attacked by the right wing. If you are going to bring them into your administration, then you need to be honest. You need moral conviction and fortitude. You need to understand that the reason you brought them in was that it would help forward your agenda, not compromise it. So, by extension, you have no other choice but to stick up for them, otherwise, you are saying (or inferring) that your agenda is not a true reflection of your leadership, philosophical ideals and moral character.
That's why the way that Barack Obama dealt with the attacks on Van Jones reminded me so much of Bill Clinton. I was transported back in time faster than I had a chance to resist! Why would I want to go back there? Why would I want to be reminded of that time, where I so much hoped that the person who occupied the Oval Office would have the courage to know that standing up to these types of attacks would not only the correct path, but would strengthen the country at the same time? This country has always been strengthened by resistance. Resistance, like competition, goes to the moral center of an individual and challenges the individual to do better, to embrace moral courage and existential fortitude.
Let's all learn from this lesson. If we don't, the third time won't be a charm.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Who Are They Going To Believe?: The Epistemology of Racial Profiling
I think I was 16 years old, maybe 17. I was riding in a friend's car, coming back from a party. Just to give you a short geographical sketch, I grew up in central New Jersey, about 35 miles from New York City. Where I grew up was relatively rural the further you got away from New York City. The towns were small and quaint; farms, dairies and roadside produce stands.
The neighborhoods were set up in such a way that you had to go through more "exclusive" neighborhoods, white neighborhoods to be exact, to get to more " racially diverse" neighborhoods. Of course, there were neighborhoods that were exclusively black too.
We were heading back from this party when we went through one of the small towns and stopped at a red light. As was common in New Jersey, there was an island that separated traffic going in opposite directions. And usually situated on these islands were the town cops, if not the State Police. We pulled up to the stop light, looked left, and there was a cop looking directly at us. I caught my friend's eye and the understanding was instantaneous: we are going to get pulled over. As a black person, it's just something you know. It's our "generic" sixth sense.
The light turned green, we proceeded and of course the cop followed us. We were just about at the edge of that small rural town when he flashed his lights and pulled us over. The exchange started out as "routine." "Drivers license and registration." My friend handed it over. "Ok, get out of the car!" "Excuse me Officer, is there a problem?" "Get Out of the Car!" "Are we under arrest? Do you have "probable cause" to have us get out of the car?" The Officer glared at us and said in a low voice (under his breath) "some smart-ass niggers here." He the said "You want probable cause. I'll give you probable cause!" He then proceeded to go to the front of the car, pull his nightstick out of his waistband, and smash the front headlight. "Now there's probable cause!" "Get out of the car!" "Great," my friend moaned.
We got out of the car and the officer proceeded to berate us for being cognizant and knowledgeable about the law. He then proceeded to search the car. He had finished searching the front and was about to search the back of the car when he stepped back, reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a bag of marijuana, threw it into the back of the car and said "Look what I just found!" "You're both under arrest!"
To make a long story short, my friend hired a lawyer and through alot of "pre-trial" machinations, ended up pleading it down to a misdemeanor. And what prompted that was the signature line that runs through all black men's mind: If this goes to trial, who do you think they are going to believe? Two teenage black boys or a white policeman?
I shared this story with you for two reasons. First, when I was completing my Master's in Public Administration at the Maxwell School at Syracuse University in 1996, it was right at the same time the O.J. Simpson trial was captivating the nation. After the verdict, a few white students that I had gotten to know asked if i would facilitate a discussion regarding race and the O.J. verdict. I gladly obliged. These students knew I had done a lot of work over the years in this area and had heard me lecture on the topics of race relations, racial profiling and diversity many times, both inside and outside the classroom. The second reason is that I want to weigh in with my opinion on the arrest of Henry Louis Gates. There has been so much discussion around the issue of racial profiling and the relationship between communities of color and law enforement. How does racial profiling occur? How do these two events intersect, if at all?
When I faciliated the discussion with the white graduate students, I was surprised at how upset they were with the verdict. Over and over again their frustration bubbled to the surface. They kept referring to the "overwhelming" evidence, the fact that black folks and specifically their black friends were "close-minded," and that the police were being maligned for just doing their job. After giving them the space to "vent" their frustrations, I shared with them the above story. I wanted to put the epistemology of our "experiences" in front of us; in front to make the discussion more salient and real. I gave them one of the main working assumptions I use in my unlearning workshops: Reference determines value! What your reference point is determines the value you put on that particular experience. I asked them: Have the police ever planted evidence on you? Have you ever been stopped, pulled over or harassed because you are white? Have you ever been arrested in your own house? Have you ever been questioned because the assumption is that you either were in the wrong neighborhood, stolen something (assumed) or looking for something to steal (like being followed in a department store)?
I could tell from the looks on their faces that these were questions they never really thought about, and quite frankly, never had to think about or give any thought to. Why? Because that was the privilege, their privilege for being white. For them, because they never had similar types of experiences with the police, they were more inclined to give the police the benefit of the doubt; more inclined to view the police in a more favorable light. Their narrative didn't unfold the same way a black man's would. I remember telling them, after about the 5th time of hearing about the glove (but the glove, what about the glove? The police found a bloody glove on his property!): Nobody's disputing that there was a bloody glove found on his property. The question is: how did it get there? Reference determines value.
I also shared with them the fact that in and of itself, each of these experiences, taken separately, depending on the experience, seemed inconsequential. But aggregate, putting them all together, at best, makes one either relegate themselves to a subservient position by lowering their sense of security or self-esteem, and at worst, induces the behavior that is called "black rage."
When I heard of Mr. Gates experience, I wasn't surprised. What did surprise me was that President Obama would say that the Cambridge police acted "stupidly." Of course they acted stupidly. They arrested a man in his own home for disorderly conduct. But to comment on the issue, especially when you are trying to keep the country and congress focused on health care reform is the height of naivte. What was he thinking? Doesn't he know how race, class and the police are always a toxic combination? Didn't he realize that just the mention of that toxic combination would unintentionally take everyone's eyes OFF of whatever prize you were working to attain?
Will something positive come from this incident? I hope so. Will this incident serve as a springboard for a discussion of the larger issues of racial disparity, racism, the disproportionate amount of men of color incarcerated, sentencing disparities, affirmative action and oversight of police behavior? I hope so. But we should not leave it to politicians. Nor should we assume that hanging out and having a beer will be the start of much long-awaited policy changes. It is up to us, the people, to educate each other, to raise our level of understanding that race issues are much more insidious than we care to admit. We need to develop a more socially-cognizant perspective. We need to take the initiative and implement a paradigm shift. We need to start from the premise that race and racism plays into every situation like this. There is nothing wrong with accepting that premise as a "working assumption." And because it plays into every situation doesn't mean that we are bad people. It is not a terminal illness. It is learned behavior. And if it is learned, it can be unlearned. What does make one a "bigot," is the understanding that those attitudes and behavior are in play and not want to change around it. After that recognition, it then becomes the social cognitive question we must ask ourselves: How do we educate people around experiences that they have not had and behavior they are not aware of?
Finally, we need to take responsibility to help each other develop frameworks that translate these historical lessons into a language we all commonly understand. We also need to understand the power and necessity of building these very coalitions with each other and the fact that any movement like this is bound to self-destruct unless it links up with segments of the community we come to understand have been institutionally excluded from the halls of power and decision-making processes. This building of understanding, of community is a viable alternative, but it must remembered that we must work to close the loop and force the larger institutional structures to meet our needs, our desires for a more "color-conscious" (not color blind...there is a difference) society and not rely on surpluses coming from the very institutional structures we expect to replace.
The neighborhoods were set up in such a way that you had to go through more "exclusive" neighborhoods, white neighborhoods to be exact, to get to more " racially diverse" neighborhoods. Of course, there were neighborhoods that were exclusively black too.
We were heading back from this party when we went through one of the small towns and stopped at a red light. As was common in New Jersey, there was an island that separated traffic going in opposite directions. And usually situated on these islands were the town cops, if not the State Police. We pulled up to the stop light, looked left, and there was a cop looking directly at us. I caught my friend's eye and the understanding was instantaneous: we are going to get pulled over. As a black person, it's just something you know. It's our "generic" sixth sense.
The light turned green, we proceeded and of course the cop followed us. We were just about at the edge of that small rural town when he flashed his lights and pulled us over. The exchange started out as "routine." "Drivers license and registration." My friend handed it over. "Ok, get out of the car!" "Excuse me Officer, is there a problem?" "Get Out of the Car!" "Are we under arrest? Do you have "probable cause" to have us get out of the car?" The Officer glared at us and said in a low voice (under his breath) "some smart-ass niggers here." He the said "You want probable cause. I'll give you probable cause!" He then proceeded to go to the front of the car, pull his nightstick out of his waistband, and smash the front headlight. "Now there's probable cause!" "Get out of the car!" "Great," my friend moaned.
We got out of the car and the officer proceeded to berate us for being cognizant and knowledgeable about the law. He then proceeded to search the car. He had finished searching the front and was about to search the back of the car when he stepped back, reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a bag of marijuana, threw it into the back of the car and said "Look what I just found!" "You're both under arrest!"
To make a long story short, my friend hired a lawyer and through alot of "pre-trial" machinations, ended up pleading it down to a misdemeanor. And what prompted that was the signature line that runs through all black men's mind: If this goes to trial, who do you think they are going to believe? Two teenage black boys or a white policeman?
I shared this story with you for two reasons. First, when I was completing my Master's in Public Administration at the Maxwell School at Syracuse University in 1996, it was right at the same time the O.J. Simpson trial was captivating the nation. After the verdict, a few white students that I had gotten to know asked if i would facilitate a discussion regarding race and the O.J. verdict. I gladly obliged. These students knew I had done a lot of work over the years in this area and had heard me lecture on the topics of race relations, racial profiling and diversity many times, both inside and outside the classroom. The second reason is that I want to weigh in with my opinion on the arrest of Henry Louis Gates. There has been so much discussion around the issue of racial profiling and the relationship between communities of color and law enforement. How does racial profiling occur? How do these two events intersect, if at all?
When I faciliated the discussion with the white graduate students, I was surprised at how upset they were with the verdict. Over and over again their frustration bubbled to the surface. They kept referring to the "overwhelming" evidence, the fact that black folks and specifically their black friends were "close-minded," and that the police were being maligned for just doing their job. After giving them the space to "vent" their frustrations, I shared with them the above story. I wanted to put the epistemology of our "experiences" in front of us; in front to make the discussion more salient and real. I gave them one of the main working assumptions I use in my unlearning workshops: Reference determines value! What your reference point is determines the value you put on that particular experience. I asked them: Have the police ever planted evidence on you? Have you ever been stopped, pulled over or harassed because you are white? Have you ever been arrested in your own house? Have you ever been questioned because the assumption is that you either were in the wrong neighborhood, stolen something (assumed) or looking for something to steal (like being followed in a department store)?
I could tell from the looks on their faces that these were questions they never really thought about, and quite frankly, never had to think about or give any thought to. Why? Because that was the privilege, their privilege for being white. For them, because they never had similar types of experiences with the police, they were more inclined to give the police the benefit of the doubt; more inclined to view the police in a more favorable light. Their narrative didn't unfold the same way a black man's would. I remember telling them, after about the 5th time of hearing about the glove (but the glove, what about the glove? The police found a bloody glove on his property!): Nobody's disputing that there was a bloody glove found on his property. The question is: how did it get there? Reference determines value.
I also shared with them the fact that in and of itself, each of these experiences, taken separately, depending on the experience, seemed inconsequential. But aggregate, putting them all together, at best, makes one either relegate themselves to a subservient position by lowering their sense of security or self-esteem, and at worst, induces the behavior that is called "black rage."
When I heard of Mr. Gates experience, I wasn't surprised. What did surprise me was that President Obama would say that the Cambridge police acted "stupidly." Of course they acted stupidly. They arrested a man in his own home for disorderly conduct. But to comment on the issue, especially when you are trying to keep the country and congress focused on health care reform is the height of naivte. What was he thinking? Doesn't he know how race, class and the police are always a toxic combination? Didn't he realize that just the mention of that toxic combination would unintentionally take everyone's eyes OFF of whatever prize you were working to attain?
Will something positive come from this incident? I hope so. Will this incident serve as a springboard for a discussion of the larger issues of racial disparity, racism, the disproportionate amount of men of color incarcerated, sentencing disparities, affirmative action and oversight of police behavior? I hope so. But we should not leave it to politicians. Nor should we assume that hanging out and having a beer will be the start of much long-awaited policy changes. It is up to us, the people, to educate each other, to raise our level of understanding that race issues are much more insidious than we care to admit. We need to develop a more socially-cognizant perspective. We need to take the initiative and implement a paradigm shift. We need to start from the premise that race and racism plays into every situation like this. There is nothing wrong with accepting that premise as a "working assumption." And because it plays into every situation doesn't mean that we are bad people. It is not a terminal illness. It is learned behavior. And if it is learned, it can be unlearned. What does make one a "bigot," is the understanding that those attitudes and behavior are in play and not want to change around it. After that recognition, it then becomes the social cognitive question we must ask ourselves: How do we educate people around experiences that they have not had and behavior they are not aware of?
Finally, we need to take responsibility to help each other develop frameworks that translate these historical lessons into a language we all commonly understand. We also need to understand the power and necessity of building these very coalitions with each other and the fact that any movement like this is bound to self-destruct unless it links up with segments of the community we come to understand have been institutionally excluded from the halls of power and decision-making processes. This building of understanding, of community is a viable alternative, but it must remembered that we must work to close the loop and force the larger institutional structures to meet our needs, our desires for a more "color-conscious" (not color blind...there is a difference) society and not rely on surpluses coming from the very institutional structures we expect to replace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
