I, Too, Have a Dream....

Our goal is to create a beloved community and
this will require a qualitative change in our souls
as well as a quantitative change in our lives.

~ Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

 







Today, as a way to pay tribute to the legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., my family and I saw the movie Selma.  Go see it.

 

As I reflected on this powerful work of art, it got me to thinkin' (as my elders used to say in my youth).  Yes, with just a little artistic license, the movie recorded pretty faithfully the pivotal civil rights battle in 1965 ... and powerfully so.  In fact, its opening scene may do so a little too powerfully for the youngest among us - I might let those less than 10 years of age wait to see it on video in a couple of years - but what follows is the compelling story of a most human - and thus transcendent - experience in human history just a half-century ago.  I'm sorry to repeat myself, but the word "powerful" keeps asserting itself in my mind: it's a powerful, beautiful portrayal of the humanity and dignity of those who sacrificed so much for us to have the right to vote (and, yes, I'll note the irony of needing more legislation to guarantee a right already accorded us by [an Amendment to] the Constitution and move on...).  So, powerful, in fact, that I cried through most of the movie, as did my beloved wife....

 

As I asked myself why I was crying, numerous reasons and feelings came out: I was crying for the loss of the four little girls killed in the Birmingham church bombing in 1963 (one of whom, Carol Robertson, was a distant cousin); I was crying because of the pain elicited by the wrenching portrayal of the suffering of those simply fighting for right and their rights, especially Jimmie Lee Jackson, Rev. James Reeb, Viola Liuzzo and others who were murdered and thereby martyred (involuntarily); I was crying because of the anger I still feel about how we as a species can be so hateful ... especially as the events being portrayed occurred in my lifetime and I can't help but feel equally appalled and enraged that craven recent political efforts have served to undo the hard won gains of Selma and all of the other battles of the Civil Rights Movement that led to the passage, in this case, of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

 

I just couldn't then and can't now reconcile how a half-century later, craven politicians - primarily of the Republican stripe (it must be clarified in the spirit of truth) - have been successful in undoing unfettered access to the exercise of this most fundamental right that was earned at the price of many lives so long ago.  How sad that so many who fought to secure access to this right are now being disenfranchised a half-century later ... and how sad - and damning of us - that we've allowed this to happen.  But I digress....

 

There are so many ways that I could go in terms of sharing about this movie and why it's important for all Americans - not just African-Americans - to see it, including how my children's reactions and mine differed.  Suffice it to say that having grown up in comfortable circumstances in part because of the activism depicted and as beneficiaries of the sacrifices of the millions who advocated in ways both large and small that have led them to be fortunate to see and experience the world very differently, they were not quite as moved as I was ... in no small part because - in some ways, thankfully - they have been fortunate not to have lived it, this societal inhumanity (which, in fairness, was more overt and probably a little more pervasive earlier in my own life).

 

No, in the spirit of this being a holiday to honor Dr. King and his legacy, I'd like to reflect on it in the context of the present realities that are left to and for us to address, including/especially a pernicious and largely unappreciated system of social control that is even more damaging to African-Americans than was Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration.

 

What?  Mass Incarceration, I say?  Yes, Mass Incarceration.  Do you know what it is?  Are you aware that for a disproportionate number of our poorer fellow citizens - especially those who are Black and brown - the statistics suggest that a third to a half of them will spend most of their adult lives associated with the criminal 'justice' system?  Are you aware that the school-to-prison pipeline is real for too many of our fellows?  And are you aware that, once convicted, many of these people are legally disenfranchised and discriminated against, in effect being stripped of (most of) their citizenship rights even after they've paid their debt to society?

 

It's true....

 

And that's the point, that there is an entire supersystem within our society - including the criminal justice system and many states (and, to a lesser extent, the federal government) - that operates virtually without sanction and technically legally but has a disproportionate impact on the poor and Communities of Color.  It's simple, brilliant, legal and devastating, especially to the African-American community: our "law and order" focus is really a cover for a biased system that disproportionately arrests, convicts and incarcerates the poor and young Men of Color and then continues to punish them by allowing post-incarceration discrimination and disenfranchisement, including both losing their right to vote and access to critical government services that would help and encourage them to make positive corrective changes in their lives.



 

Law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice

and when they fail in this purpose

they become the dangerously structured dams

that block the flow of social progress.

- Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.



 

Here's how it works:  For decades, studies have shown that illegal drug usage is comparable between whites and Blacks - and actually typically a little lower for the latter - but the prosecution of such non-violent "crime" is disproportionately of Color.  So, even though they use drugs at roughly the same rate, Blacks are far more likely to be investigated, arrested and prosecuted for it.  And, once in the system, the options are grim for most of these young Black men (and, sadly and increasingly, Black women): most cannot afford counsel and so tend to rely on overstretched and underfunded public defenders with predictable results, which means that they are also disproportionately incarcerated and for longer terms/sentences, too.  Even though most of these 'crimes' reflect addiction - suggesting that they are more appropriately considered in the public health domain - and/or low-level dealing (which is invariably a non-violent crime), they are most often sent to maximum security prisons with violent offenders, also with predictable results.  Then, assuming that they serve their typically long sentences, they're paroled but many/most can never again vote or access government services that would help them re-integrate into society constructively.  For example, in most cases, a paroled felon cannot apply to live in public housing or for job training, et. al., programs that would help him or her get re-established in a legitimate, non-criminal lifestyle.  Further, it's legal for him or her to be turned down for employment or refused (for-profit) housing because of a felony conviction, which must be disclosed in the hiring or rental/purchase process (as a question about this is almost universally asked now in the case of the former).

 

Imagine it: you're a newly released convicted felon from a ghetto in any one of the nation's major cities and now that you're out and intending to make a new and better start, no one (or, for sure, few if any) will hire you and you can't turn to the government for help because you've forfeited your rights thereto upon conviction.  Is it any wonder you'll tend to return to a life of crime?!?  If we really want parolees to 'straighten up and fly right', why would we make it so hard for them to do so?  If you're tempted to say "because they're convicts," remember that they've already paid their debt to society ... so shouldn't we want them to avail themselves of legal means to reconstruct and conduct their lives?  Instead, in effect, we choose to continue to punish them by disenfranchising them and then judge them because they often choose to return to an illicit life (because a legal one is prohibitively hard to attain).  It's a sad trap that we've set for too many of our own.

 

If you doubt my characterization of The New Jim Crow (i.e., Mass Incarceration), read Michelle Alexander's profound, piercing, disheartening and damning examination of it in her book of the same name ... and then read Bryan Stevenson's amazing, frightening and equally piercing and profound Just Mercy ... and then read Bob Herbert's righteous and insightful Losing Our Way, et. al. ... and then we'll talk....

 

So, am I saying that, had he lived, Dr. King would have been focused on prisoners' rights?  Not necessarily.  But there's no question that he would be focused on the class-based oppression that's occurring in (too) many forms in our society today, including widening income and wealth inequality (that reflects policy choices in the past three decades, not the verdict of the mythical capitalist marketplace), the demonization of the poor and immigrants, the purposely disenfranchising and successful push for voter ID as a prerequisite for voting (that supposedly addresses a literally statistically non-existent problem of voter fraud) and the insanely inhumane crusade against Obamacare and the 10+ million of our fellow citizens who've finally gained access to affordable healthcare, just to name a few.  (Or, we could mention SCOTUS's recent 'contributions' in this regard like its Citizens United and Hobby Lobby decisions, etc.)  In short, class warfare is real - and, no, it's not the masses unfairly scoring and scoring on the elite, but, as always, the opposite - and it's being waged ever more successfully in our time.

 

Let us not forget that in his final half-decade of life, Dr. King was focused on economic empowerment to complement and extend the political and social empowerment that the Civil Rights Movement had achieved for African-Americans first (and, thereafter, for other Americans of Color).  Further, let's not forget that his focus on the economic power relationships in our society - and the resulting distributions of opportunity, income and wealth - was far less popular, as was he (which was also exacerbated by his relatively early and vociferous dissent relative to the Vietnam War).  In fact, when he died, King was being excoriated by more radical and less tolerant Blacks for being too systemic (and patient) in his focus, by the federal government and the (business, et. al.) establishment for being anti-war (and thus unpatriotic), by the FBI for being fallibly human and unfaithful to his wife (like so many of the leaders of our society then and since) and by whites - especially his former patrons, northern Liberals - for his focus on economics.  As his last speech showed palpably, by the time of his assassination, Martin Luther King was a tired, beleaguered and besieged man.

 

So it's this last area of focus - on the economic structure of our society and the inequality therein - on which I'd like to focus in my own activism ... not to the exclusion of the continuing pursuit of political and social inclusion but in addition to it.  In fact, this is King's unfinished business that is both yet another demonstration of his profound vision in his time and ours as well as a mantle for us to assume today.

 

When we do, we'll truly shake the foundations of our society, and, indeed, the world, which is a good thing.  Because it'll take us back to a more communal ethic that was more equitably beneficial: in my youth, the America in which I came of age was one in which we all had a reasonable shot if we worked hard because the opportunities - educational, professional, etc. - were being more equitably shared and we believed that as the tide rose, all boats should, too - in other words, we believed that our progress should be shared.

 

(By contrast, when I look at the unfortunate and unsuccessful approach that we've taken to the misnamed and misguided War on Drugs, I know that there were alternatives paths then and that there are alternative paths now that are far more equitable and communal.  We should not be proud of our status as the society most prone to incarcerate - especially the poor and those of Color - when other societies have experienced objectively superior outcomes by taking different and more humane paths.)

 

One aspect of such change in this regard will undoubtedly be how we pursue justice ... which, in three words, should be fully, equitably and compassionately.  When we provide more constructive alternatives to our inner-city youth than failing schools and virtually omnipresent temptation to pursue paths that are far less likely to lead to illusory riches than to disenfranchised felony, we'll benefit from more of our resources going to uplift and not to incarceration.  When we stop overpenalizing non-violent blue collar crime and actually penalizing white collar crime, we'll see a real change in our society.  Why is it that we demonize poor, low-level drug dealers and lionize wealthy crooks?  Why is Jordan Belfort, he of The Wolf of Wall Street fame, walking around today (and selling his "success secrets" to new but still gullible people)?  Though he defrauded thousands and lost/cost people hundreds of millions, he's flying high again today, having served just a few years in a country club prison, while many who got busted for low-level marijuana or cocaine distribution around the same time are still serving their much longer sentences (and in much more inhumane prisons).

 

In a word, Dr. King sought for us to be a more compassionate society, one that cared equally for the haves and the have-nots.  He would not tolerate a society that offers opportunity ever more selectively while apportioning punishment similarly but to an entirely different group.  He would not stand idly by and allow Mass Incarceration to be even more damaging than Jim Crow was (as it criminalizes and then disenfranchises Blacks and the poor even more disproportionately).  He would not allow us to point to our African-American president with feigned pride and then ignore that we were accepting of so many other regressive societal conditions that his breakthrough would likely be even more exceptional in the future (or that not by coincidence this president has faced unprecedented obstruction and yet accomplished so much).  And he would insist that we be more inclusive, compassionate and engaged in our actions, even as our legislators at the federal and state levels endeavor ceaselessly to be more regressive and inhumane in their tactics.  In sum, were he still alive, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., would still be fighting, as should we.

 

And the movie Selma reminds us just how personally costly such loving, communal advocacy can be....

 

Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable....

Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle;

the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.

- Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Just Mercy....

The measure of a society is found in

how they treat their weakest and most helpless citizens.

As Americans, we are blessed with circumstances

that protect our human rights and our religious freedom,

but for many people around the world,

deprivation and persecution have become a way of life.

- Former President Jimmy Carter

 

A family friend from Detroit and I have grown up apart - him primarily on the West Coast and me primarily on the East - but through the magic of Facebook, it's clear that we share a certain 'progressive' sensibility and worldview.  So when he invited me into a virtual book club via the site, I happily and readily accepted.  After some back and forth among the coterie of invited prospective members, Derrick nominated Bryan Stephenson's Just Mercy to be our first book.  Great, I thought: I'd heard of the pioneering civil rights attorney's admirable work and was interested in learning more about it.

 

Goodness, do I rue and prize this decision.  Simply put, only five chapters in, this book, Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, is both as disturbing and depressing as any book I've ever read (including Viktor' Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning in which he details his experiences in a Nazi concentration camp) and it's also an inspiring testament to the human spirit and a few people's dedication of their lives to the true pursuit of justice in our supposedly modern society.

 

As an educated, successful middle-/upper-middle class Man Of Color, I've mostly been shielded from the vagaries of our criminal justice system, though I, too, have been subjected (wrongly) to a couple of situations in which my life was threatened by officers of the law conceptually sworn to serve and protect me.  This is a reality that our society chooses to ignore: few if any of us Black males are immune to being in the wrong place at the wrong time and thus subject to potentially fatal interactions with police officers.  It doesn't matter that you're educated and law-abiding, it only matters that you're Black.  There are few experiences more sobering in life than to realize that who you are is irrelevant and what you are - determined by circumstances and agents beyond your control and/or the vagaries of fate - is the sum total of your existence at certain moments.

 

So, suffice it to say that I was prepared to accept that many of the stories in the book involved mainly other Men Of Color who were less fortunate in terms of family background, education, life chances, etc.  In sum, I realize that my middle class upbringing and upper-middle class adulthood have helped me 'overcome' many of the challenges to which most other members of my race - and especially members of my gender and race - are subjected in modern America.  In a word, relative to all but a very few Black folks in America, I've had it good.

 

What I was not prepared for was the level of institutional abuse to which so many of our fellow citizens - especially those who are darker and poorer - are subjected.  Make no mistake, this is about race, but it's also about class - which is why it's not a Black or white problem but an American (and, truly, world) one - as we demonize the poor almost as much as we demonize the Other in our society now.

 

At this point, given that Mr. Stephenson's primary focus is on representing condemned ("death row") inmates in Alabama, I think it fair to disclaim my historical view on capital punishment: I've been for it, in (very) limited circumstances.  First, I don't believe that it's acceptable for an individual to take another's life unless his or her own life is clearly and imminently in danger.  Beyond this, if someone proactively takes a life, I believe that he or she should punished severely, preferably via a long prison sentence that holds out the possibility for parole only after several decades at the earliest (if at all).  The only circumstances in which I've been comfortable in allowing imposition of the death penalty have been those in which multiple murders were committed.  Once you've killed several people, it's hard for me to conceptualize that you value others' humanity and thus I'm not totally uncomfortable with you leaving our earthly company.

 

Also, I haven't believed that the mentally ill or handicapped should face the ultimate sanction.  Nor should juveniles (except in the case of multiple pre-meditated murders [as opposed to manslaughter]).  (Though I support voluntary euthanasia of the terminally ill [more out of compassion than by right].)

 

And I'm especially troubled by the realities of race and class when they intersect with the death penalty: simply put, if you're poor you have a much higher chance of facing capital punishment, if you're Black it's even higher and if you're poor and Black it's the highest - and multiple times more likely than your poor, poor and white or, especially, white fellow citizens.  Accordingly, I've been reluctant to support the death penalty - much less its expansion - and, in fact, have tended toward believing that it should be (and become) more limited in its application.

 

Until Just Mercy.  Now I just think that it's wrong, and wrong all of the time....

 

No, I don't want multiple murderers being kept around for decades in our prison system at our expense.  And yet, given the realities of our criminal 'justice' and prison system in America - including our ridiculously high incarceration rate, the expansion of the private, for-profit prison industry and the statistically demonstrable existence of the "cradle to prison pipeline," especially in poor Communities of Color - I actually question whether it's not already "cruel and unusual" in (too) many ways that render it in violation of the very Constitution that gives it its basis.

 

But I can't in good conscience accept what passes for "justice" in our society currently.  Since most folks don't become involved with the criminal justice system in any significant way, they don't realize its pernicious and often perverse quirks ... and thus are quite comfortable not giving the issue much thought or concern.  I can't believe, however, that if they were (more) aware, they could accept it either.

 

Most self-considered 'good people' don't realize that indigent defendants in many jurisdictions in this country face an almost vertical uphill battle to prove themselves innocent and are, in fact, presumed guilty in ways that lead to this becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy far too often.

 

For example, can you imagine being a indigent defendant facing a murder charge in a state court but having little to no legal representation?  I can't either, but it happens all of the time right now.  Do you have enough familiarity with the legal system to defend yourself in such a situation?  Do you think that a few innocent people are victimized by this reality every day in our country?  If so, then you accept that thousands of people each year are put in the unenviable position of having to defend themselves - and their very lives - against a well-oiled, experienced system with which they have little to no experience, right?  How do you think that this turns out for most of them?  So, are all of them really guilty of the crimes of which they've convicted or many of them victims of a system that seeks retribution always and justice occasionally?  Imagine being given a court-appointed lawyer who does little to no research on your case, doesn't mount much of a defense (if any) and then suggests that your best chance is on appeal ... and then recuses him/herself from your case so that you have to seek volunteer appellate attorneys to represent you in this byzantine facet of the process.  Oh, that can't happen much we say to ourselves ... but it's routine in many jurisdictions in our country (especially in the South) and happens all of the time, every day, here and now.  (Many of those on death row currently are truly victims of just such an experience.)

 

To put it too nicely, our criminal justice system is stacked against the poor and innocent Of Color (while too often favoring the rich, guilty and white).  But it's only when we delve into just how stacked against the average poor defendant that we understand that it begins to violate our ideals too regularly to continue.  And when you add in that many of these (supposedly) unintended 'mistakes' are being made in capital cases, you understand that our failure to address this issue has lethal consequences for more than a few of our fellow citizens.  Of course, unless one of these unfortunate souls is known to you, your willingness to accept the fallible humanity of our system is a lot higher, which is where we find ourselves today.

 

What Just Mercy does is to humanize just a few of the myriad such cases and describe the lives and put human faces on those whose fortunes are so destroyed by this inhumane system on the fringes of our society....

 

To be clear, I'm not suggesting that we get rid of our judicial system - we will always need it due to our human fallibility - but I am saying that we need to reform it greatly and far more than most of us realize.  My guess is that the 'comfortable middle' (class) of American society is largely unaware of the problem, existing as it does in peaceful, lawful bliss (and the 'insulated upper' class is unconcerned by virtue of its privileges and resources).  But those who are more urban or more poor or more Black/Brown/etc. have a disproportionately different experience and its to these less fortunate among us that we owe our commitment, too.  So, what I am saying is that we need to inject more justice into our judicial system....

 

What Mr. Stephenson has reminded me and us is that we own the responsibility to insure that President Carter's words ring true for each and every one of our fellow citizens and, ultimately, for each and every one of our fellow human beings.  As, sadly, today and on our own watch, they do not....