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Broadcast January 16, 2012 on NPR radio program Fresh Air from WHYY
Dave Davies, HOST:
This is FRESH AIR. I'm Dave Davies, in for Terry Gross. Today we
remember Martin Luther King and his contribution to the cause of civil
rights. Our guest, legal scholar and attorney Michelle Alexander,
believes the gains of the civil rights movement are being undermined by
the mass incarceration of African-Americans associated with the war on
drugs.
She says millions swept up in the drug war, even those who avoid
lengthy prison terms, are forever branded as felons and denied basic
rights and opportunities which would allow them to become productive,
law-abiding citizens. The result, Alexander says, is a new caste system
in America.
Michelle Alexander is a graduate of the Stanford law school who clerked
for U.S. Supreme Court Justice Harry Blackmun. She was director of the
American Civil Liberties Union's Racial Justice Project in Northern
California. She's now an associate professor of law at Ohio State
University.
Her book is called "The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of
Colorblindness." Well, Michelle Alexander, welcome to FRESH AIR. Let's
start with the scale of incarceration among African-Americans. How big
a problem is this?
MICHELLE ALEXANDER: Well, it's truly staggering. Today there are more
African-Americans under correctional control, in prison or jail, on
probation or parole, than were enslaved in 1850, a decade before the
Civil War began.
There are millions of African-Americans now cycling in and out of
prisons and jails or under correctional control or saddled with
criminal records. In fact, in major American cities today, more than
half of working-age African-American men either are under are
correctional control or are branded felons, and are thus subject to
legalized discrimination for the rest of their lives.
This is something that now affects the overwhelming majority of
African-Americans in the United States. If not them directly, then they
often have a relative who's been affected by the system.
DAVIES: And you call this the new Jim Crow. Why use that phrase?
ALEXANDER: Well, I think it's important for people to understand that
the system of mass incarceration isn't just another institution
infected with conscious or unconscious bias. It's a different beast
entirely. People are swept into the criminal justice system,
particularly in poor communities of color, at very early ages, targeted
by police, stopped and frisked.
Sometimes when they're walking to school, their backpacks are rifled
through in a search for drugs. Once they're old enough to drive a car,
their cars may be pulled over, stopped and frisked. So they're shuttled
from their decrepit, underfunded schools to brand-new, high-tech
prisons; typically for fairly minor, nonviolent crimes, often drug
offenses, the very sorts of crimes that occur with roughly equal
frequency in middle-class white neighborhoods and on college campuses
but go largely ignored - shuttled in to jail and to prisons, branded as
criminals and felons. And then when they're released, they're relegated
to a permanent second-class status, stripped of the very rights
supposedly won in the civil rights movement; rights like the right to
vote, the right to serve on juries, the right to be free of legal
discrimination in employment, housing, access to education and public
benefits.
So many of the old forms of discrimination, that we supposedly left
behind during the Jim Crow era, are suddenly legal again once you've
been branded a felon.
DAVIES: Let's talk about the origins of this. I mean, it was President
Reagan, I believe, that declared the war on drugs in 1982. I mean, do
you see this as directed at African-Americans in cities?
ALEXANDER: Yes, absolutely. I mean, it was President Richard Nixon who
first coined the term a war on drugs, but it was President Ronald
Reagan who turned that rhetorical war into a literal one. And he
declared the drug war primarily for reasons of politics, racial
politics.
Numerous historians and political scientists have now documented that
the war on drugs was part of a grand Republican Party strategy, known
as the Southern Strategy, of using racially coded get-tough appeals on
issues of crime and welfare to appeal to poor and working-class whites,
particularly in the South, who were resentful of, anxious about,
threatened by many of the gains of African-Americans in the civil
rights movement.
You know, to be fair, I think we have to acknowledge that poor and
working-class white really had their world rocked by the civil rights
movement. Wealthy whites could afford to send their kids to private
schools and continue to give their kids all of the advantages of wealth
has to offer.
But in the wake of the civil rights movement, poor and working-class
whites really were faced with a social demotion. It was their kids who
might be bussed across town to go to a school they believed was
inferior. It was their kids and themselves who were suddenly forced to
compete on equal terms for scarce jobs with this whole new group of
people they, you know, believed, had been taught their whole lives to
believe were inferior to them.
And this state of affairs created an enormous amount of confusion,
resentment, but it also created an enormous political opportunity.
DAVIES: You know, what's interesting about it is that when I remember -
I mean, I'm old enough to remember back in the '80s, and what I
associated with the war on drugs were some things that seemed to be
aimed very much at middle-class kids, too.
I mean, my sense was that, you know, Nancy and Ronald Reagan didn't
like, you know, middle-class kids who had experimented with the drug
counterculture in the '60s and '70s doing that stuff. And so we saw
these ads, you know, the fried egg that said, you know, this is your
brain, this is your brain on drugs.
There were these DARE programs. I'm not sure what the acronym stands
for, but it's a drug education program that was done in all kinds of
high schools, including middle-class high schools.
ALEXANDER: Yes, there was a public-education effort that occurred in
middle-class, white communities associated with the drug war. But what
happened in poor communities of color wasn't public education but
rather mass incarceration.
So, you know, after the drug war was declared, a couple years after the
drug war was declared, crack hit the streets and really began to ravage
inner-city communities, and with the media frenzy associated with crack
cocaine, a wave of punitiveness really washed over the United States.
But this wave of punitiveness did not result in sweeps of college
campuses or universities or middle-class white students having their
backpacks, you know, searched and rifled through. It wasn't them who
were being followed home from school, you know, from the school bus.
That became the reality.
The drug war was a literal war. It has been, it continues to be, a
literal war waged in poor communities of color complete with SWAT teams
and military-style equipment and tactics, even though studies have
consistently shown now, for decades, that people of color are no more
likely to use or sell illegal drugs than whites.
DAVIES: Let's talk about how the war on drugs actually worked and the
impact that you write about on African-Americans in - particularly in
inner cities. What about the way federal grants were administered, and
the kinds of incentives they gave to local police departments? How did
that work?
ALEXANDER: Yes, well, you know, after the war on drugs was declared,
drug convictions increased astronomically. In fact, drug convictions
have increased more than 1,000 percent since the drug war began, and
many people assumed that the explosion in drug arrests and convictions
was due to some kind of spike in drug use and abuse. But that's not
actually the case.
One of the reasons that drug arrests have skyrocketed is because
federal funding has flowed to state and local law enforcement agencies
who boost the sheer numbers of drug arrests. Through the Edward Byrne
Memorial Grand Program and related funding streams, state and local law
enforcement agencies have been rewarded in cash by the millions for the
sheer numbers of people swept into the system for drug offenses, thus
giving law enforcement agencies an incentive to go out looking for the
so-called low--hanging fruit: stopping, frisking, searching as many
people as possible, pulling over as many cars and trying to search them
as possible, in order to boost their numbers up and ensure that the
funding stream will continue or increase.
DAVIES: All right, so you see a lot of legal latitude in what police
can do. You see federal incentives for mass arrests. And it's easier to
go into communities of color because they can get away with it?
ALEXANDER: Oh absolutely. If these kinds of sweep tactics were employed
on college campuses or directed towards middle-class high-school
students in suburban neighborhoods exiting from their school bus, there
would be just incredible amount of outrage. You know, the drug war
would have ended a long, long time ago if these tactics had been
employed in middle-class or upper-middle-class white communities.
But because they are employed almost exclusively in ghettoized
communities, they face virtually no political repercussions. And
because so many of these communities are just fighting for survival,
with people suffering from, you know, staggering rates of unemployment
and often high rates of violent crime, there is a tremendous amount of
disorganization, a lack of political power.
Many people have already been disenfranchised as a result of felony
convictions, and the police and politicians face few repercussions for
engaging in incredibly aggressive and counterproductive tactics.
DAVIES: Michelle Alexander's book is called "The New Jim Crow." We'll
continue our conversation after a short break. This is FRESH AIR.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
DAVIES: If you're just joining us, we're speaking with Michelle
Alexander, she's a legal scholar and lawyer. She's written a book
called "The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of
Colorblindness."
You know, I wanted to read something from David Kennedy, he's a
criminologist whose work I know you know, you actually quote him at one
point in your book. He's spent many years working in communities -
working with law enforcement, working with community leaders, with
victims, with ex-offenders. And he's also somebody who agrees that
there are far, far too many young African-American men incarcerated and
thinks that the police tactics which lead to that are counterproductive.
But I want to read something that he wrote in his book "Don't Shoot."
He writes: The relentless law enforcement we see is intended to save
lives, to protect neighborhoods, to bring order to the streets. I have
spent my adult life with the men and women who do the work, and I know
this to be true.
I have no time for the easy armchair cant that says this is all about
profiling and racism and bias in the criminal justice system. It simply
is not so. Nobody who has ever actually been on these streets could
believe it for a moment. There is disparate treatment in law
enforcement, no question, but that's not what's driving the problem.
The smug notion that there is no problem here, or that this is all a
moral panic, or that the problem with high-crime communities is the
institutional racism of the criminal justice is a crock.
You know David Kennedy's work. Do you think he's not getting it?
ALEXANDER: I think he's not getting it in that instance. There's - you
know, much of David Kennedy's work I agree with, but I think it's very
easy to kind of brush off, as he does, the notion that the system
operates much like a caste system if you are, in fact, not trapped
within it.
You know, I have spent years representing victims of racial profiling
and police brutality, and investigating patterns of drug law
enforcement in poor communities of color; and attempting to assist
people who have been released from prison, quote-unquote "re-enter"
into a society that never seemed to have much use to them in the first
place.
And in the course of that work, I had my own awakening about our
criminal justice system and this system of mass incarceration. Probably
10 years ago, I might have shared David Kennedy's view, but I don't any
longer. My years of experience and the research that I have done has
led me to the regrettable conclusion that our system of mass
incarceration functions more like a caste system than a system of crime
prevention or control.
Now, that's not to say that many of the people who work within it,
including my own husband who's a federal prosecutor, aren't
well-intentioned. Many of them are. But the problem is that the
structure of the system guarantees that millions of people will be
swept into the system for relatively minor crimes, the very sorts of
crimes that are ignored on the other side of town, swept into the
system, branded criminals and felons and then stripped of the very
rights supposedly won in the civil rights movement.
DAVIES: In Philadelphia here, we have an African-American mayor and an
African-American police commissioner, who say they're very, very
concerned about what's happening in African-American communities. And I
think one of the things that they would say is that no, it's not an
accident that this aggressive policing occurs in the communities they
do because that's where the murders are happening.
Mayor Nutter, here in Philly, often says that 75 to 80 percent of the
murders in the city involve black male victims and, where they are
solved, black male perpetrators. And so when you get aggressive police
tactics going, they're going to focus on the communities where the
violence happens, it's seen as connected to drugs, and that's going to
generate a lot more arrests.
ALEXANDER: Yes, I hear that all the time, that the reason that the
police are rounding up folks en mass in poor communities of color is
because that's where the violent offenders are, that's where the drug
kingpins can be found. But the reality is, is that law enforcement has
invested an extraordinary amount of their resources, their time, energy
and resources not into investigating the most serious crimes or
bringing down the drug kingpins but rather in arresting people for
these low-level, relatively minor offenses.
In these communities, you make the same kinds of mistakes in your
youth, experiment with the same kinds of drugs, sell drugs at the same
rates as the middle-class white kids, but you must pay for the rest of
your life for your mistakes.
Now, to say that this is because we are concerned about violence I
think is to miss the larger point here, which is that, you know, all of
the research shows, in fact William Julius Wilson's work in his book
"When Work Disappears," I think is particularly apt, shows that those
communities that have the highest levels of joblessness also have the
highest levels of violence.
In fact, as William Julius Wilson points out, if you compare rates of
violent crime, but control for joblessness, you'll see that white
jobless men have about the same rates of violent crime as black jobless
men. That doesn't exclude - excuse violence by any means, joblessness
does not excuse violence, but what we see is that violence,
particularly in communities where there's concentrated poverty, is very
much related to joblessness.
DAVIES: What are the consequences of having a felony conviction on your life?
ALEXANDER: Well, I think most people have a general understanding that,
you know, when you're released from prison, life is hard. It'll be
hard, but, you know, if you really apply yourself and show some level
of self-discipline, you'll be able to make it.
The reality is far harsher. The reality is that when you're released
from prison, people who are released from prison typically have little
or no money at all. They need to find a place to sleep, but if they try
to get access to public housing, they find often that they're barred
from public housing because of their criminal conviction.
In fact, people returning home from prison who want to go reunite with
their children or their spouse, that - their family risks eviction from
public housing if they allow their loved one to come home to them.
DAVIES: So it is legal for a public housing authority to make a felony conviction a basis for exclusion?
ALEXANDER: Absolutely. In fact, even arrest without a conviction, can
be the basis for exclusion from public housing. So people who have
arrest records but have not been convicted are frequently excluded from
public housing. So, you know, people released from prison, you know,
having been convicted, often find that they cannot get access to public
housing, and in many regions of the country, you're barred from public
housing for a minimum of five years when you're released from prison.
So where do you sleep? Where do you go? Trying to find work is
extraordinarily difficult. You know, trying even to get a job as a
barber or get a job as a janitor can be difficult. Employers are
legally authorized to discriminate against you. Food stamps may be
off-limits to you. Under federal law, you're deemed ineligible for food
stamps for the rest of your life if you've been convicted of a felony
drug offense.
Fortunately, many states have now opted out of the federal ban on food
stamps for drug offenders, but it remains the case that thousands of
people still can't even get food stamps to feed themselves because they
were once caught with some drugs.
And to make matters worse, you know, when you're released from prison,
you're often saddled with hundreds or thousands of dollars in fees,
fines, court costs, accumulated back child support. In a growing number
of states, you're actually expected to pay back the cost of your
imprisonment.
And, you know, get this: If you're one of the lucky few who actually
manage to get a job upon release from prison, up to 100 percent of your
wages can be garnished to pay back all those fees, fines, court costs,
accumulated back child support. What, realistically, do we expect folks
to do? The system seems designed to send folks back to prison, which is
what, in fact, happens the vast majority of the time.
DAVIES: Michelle Alexander is an associate professor of law at Ohio
State University. Her book is called "The New Jim Crow: Mass
Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness." She'll be back in the
second half of the show. I'm Dave Davies, and this is FRESH AIR.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
DAVIES: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Dave Davies in for Terry Gross. It's
Martin Luther King Day, and our guest Michelle Alexander's book argues
that many of the gains of the civil rights movement have been
undermined by the mass incarceration of African-Americans in the war on
drugs. Alexander says millions arrested for minor crimes find
themselves branded as felons for life, and thus denied basic rights and
opportunities. Her book is called"The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration
in the Age of Colorblindness."
Let me ask you, you described this as, you know, in effect a caste system. What do we do about this?
ALEXANDER: Well, my own view is nothing short of a major social
movement has any hope of ending mass incarceration in the United
States. Piecemeal policy reform just kind of tinkering with this
machine I think is doomed to fail in the long run. You know, if we
return to the rates of incarceration we had in the 1970s or the early
1980s, before the war on drugs, we would have to release four out of
five people who are in prison today - four out of five. More than a
million people employed by the criminal justice system would lose their
jobs.
Most new prison construction has occurred in predominantly white rural
communities, communities that are quite vulnerable economically and
have often been sold on prisons as an answer to their economic woes.
Very often these rural communities have been offered benefits of
prisons that haven't really materialized, but nonetheless, those
prisons across America, you know, would have to close down. Private
prison companies listed on the New York Stock Exchange would be forced
to watch their profits vanish.
This system of mass incarceration is now so deeply entrenched in our
political, economic, and social structure that it is not simply going
to fade away without some kind of major shift in our public
consciousness, which is why I hope that, you know, in honor of the
memory of, you know, Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. and so many of the
other people who risked their lives for meaningful racial and social
equality in the United States, that we will build a new human rights
movement for education, not incarceration, for jobs, not jails, a human
rights movement that will honor the basic human rights to work, to
shelter, to food for all people no matter who you are or what you've
done.
DAVIES: You know, there are civil rights organizations still active today. Do you see any of this happening?
ALEXANDER: I think there are definitely promising signs. You know, one
of the reasons I was inspired to write the book was that I became
frustrated at the failure of civil rights organizations to really rise
to the challenge that mass incarceration poses for our country and for
communities of color. I'm encouraged by so many inspiring grassroots
efforts that are underway. There are faith communities nationwide that
are beginning to organize to end mass incarceration. The Samuel DeWitt
Proctor Conference, which is a network of several thousand progressive
black churches has made ending mass incarceration its number one
priority. The United Methodist Church recently announced that it was
divesting from private prisons and all companies that profit from
caging human beings. There is, I think a real turn that's occurring
among people of faith and conscience and it definitely gives me hope
for the future.
DAVIES: How do you rate President Obama's performance?
ALEXANDER: Oh, I've been very disappointed. You know, I think that he's
had numerous opportunities to speak boldly and forcefully about the
harms of the drug war and the need for us to end mass incarceration as
we know it. What we see is that in his drug policy budget he has
invested about the same ratio of dollars to enforcement as compared to
prevention as the Bush administration did. So we haven't seen the
change that I was hoping for in the Obama administration, although the
rhetoric has changed. Gil Kerlikowske, the drugs czar in the Obama
administration, has said publicly that he doesn't think we should call
it a war on drugs anymore because we shouldn't be at war with our own
people. But it's not enough just to change the rhetoric. We have to be
willing to actually end the policies and practices that have proved so
devastating over the past 40 years.
DAVIES: You know, the book makes a powerful case that I think that of
some terrifically harmful impacts of the war on drugs and the way it's
implemented in these communities. But there is a question of sort of
its origins and the extent to which it is racially motivated. And you
describe this war as quote, "a stunningly comprehensive and
well-disguised system of racialized social control." It sounds like
you're saying policymakers engineered the mass arrest of
African-Americans to keep them subjugated. Do you mean to say that?
ALEXANDER: Well, what I mean to say is that the system of mass
incarceration was born of racial opportunism. It was born of a desire
by politicians to exploit our nation's racial divisions and anxieties
for political gain. When politicians began, you know, rallying around
the get tough bandwagon it was an effort to appeal to the racial
anxieties, stereotypes and resentments of poor and working-class whites.
War on drugs was in fact an effort to make good on those campaign
promises to get tough on a group of people not so subtly defined as
black, brown. But that doesn't mean that, you know, everyone involved
in the drug war or all those politicians who have ever supported harsh
tactics were racist in the old Jim Crow sense but, you know, it's
critical for us to remember that many people, even during the old Jim
Crow, who voted for segregation laws voted for literacy tests and poll
taxes and all of that weren't hostile bigoted people who would
gleefully watch a black man hanging from a tree in a lynching. Many of
them were good people. Martin Luther King Jr. in his speeches would
often remind his audiences that, you know, most folks who support Jim
Crow aren't evil bad people, they're just deeply misguided. They're
blind, spiritually blind to the harms of the policies that they
support. And I think the same thing can be said today, many people of
good will are blind to the harms of mass incarceration and the
devastation, the war on drugs has caused.
DAVIES: You know, it seems to me that it would not be in anybody's
interests, including the people who dreamed up the war on drugs or who
have advocated aggressive police tactics, it's certainly in none of
those peoples' interest to have, you know, huge numbers of
African-American men condemned to a position where they can't get
employment, they can't become law-abiding citizens and in fact ,are
much more likely to become criminals or predators. That doesn't -
that's not in anybody's interest. Is there an appeal that says we
simply have to do something different for all our sakes?
ALEXANDER: Oh, absolutely. You know, at the end of the book I argue
that what is necessary is for us to build a broad-based human rights
movement that is multiracial, multiethnic and includes poor and
working-class whites who are typically pit against poor folks of color
or treating the rise of successive news systems of control. We need to
see, understand the ways in which the system has harmed all of us, but
especially folks who are trapped in ghettos and cycling in and out of
prisons and jails in their families. The system has harmed all of us,
not in identical ways, but has harmed all of us nonetheless. And most
importantly, it has damaged our ability to see our fates as linked, to
see the fates of poor and working-class whites, have linked the fates
of poor folks of color so that it is possible to build a meaningful
alliances for quality jobs, quality education, quality health care for
all.
Dismantling the system of mass incarceration is going to require
connecting the dots between forms of discrimination that harm Latinos,
you know, have become really the new boogie man in, you know, in recent
election cycles and we now have a prison building boom aimed at
suspected illegal immigrants, with the fate of African-Americans, as
well as with the faith of poor whites living in rule communities where
they believe their only hope for a good job may be working in a prison.
So this movement absolutely must be broad enough to encompass the quest
for basic human rights, the right to work, the right to a quality
education, the right to quality health care for all, no matter who you
are or what mistakes you have made in the past.
DAVIES: Michelle Alexander's book is called "The New Jim Crow." We'll
continue our conversation after a short break. This is FRESH AIR.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
DAVIES: If you're just joining us, we're speaking with Michelle
Alexander. She's a legal scholar and lawyer. She's written a book
called "The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of
Colorblindness."
How did you get involved in this issue?
ALEXANDER: Well, really, my commitment to this work began when I became
the director of the Racial Justice Project for the ACLU in California.
And we launched a major campaign against racial profiling known as the
DWB Campaign or the Driving While Black or Brown Campaign. And it was
during that period that I began working representing victims of racial
profiling and police brutality and investigating patterns of drug law
enforcement in poor communities of color, and attempting to assist
people who have been released from prison quote/unquote "re-enter" into
a society that never had shown much use for them in the first place.
And it was during that period of time that I had a series of
experiences that really began what I often refer to as my awakening.
DAVIES: You want to describe a case that was particularly compelling to you?
ALEXANDER: Yes. You know, there is one case in particular I'll never
forget. It involved a young African-American man probably no older than
19 who walked into my office one day. I was interviewing young black
men that day who had claims of racial profiling against the police. As
part of our campaign against racial profiling we had put up billboards
in Oakland, in San Jose and in other communities with a hotline number
for people to call if they believed they had been stopped or targeted
by the police on the basis of race. And immediately after that hotline
number was announced we received thousands of calls. In fact, our
system crashed temporarily, we had to expand it. A
And this young man walks into my office with a thick stack of papers.
He had taken detailed notes of his encounters with the police over a
nine-month period of time. I mean he had names, dates, witnesses, in
some cases badge numbers, just an extraordinary amount of
documentation. And he was a good-looking young man. He was charismatic,
well-spoken, and the stories of discrimination he told were compelling
and were corroborated by other stories we had heard about what had been
going on in his neighborhood in Oakland, and so I became excited. I
thought here's our dream plaintive. Here's the one we've been looking
for, as we had been looking to file lawsuits against the Oakland Police
Department and a number of others.
And so I began asking more talking and we're talking, and then he says
something that makes me pause. And I said did you just say you're a
drug felon? And he says yeah, yeah, you know, I'm a drug felon. I am,
but listen. And I just interrupted him and I said I'm so sorry. We're
not going to be able to represent you. We, in fact had been screening
people with prior criminal convictions. We believed we couldn't
represent someone who had been convicted of a felony or really had any
criminal record at all because we knew that law enforcement would argue
that, of course, we should be following stopping and searching people
like that, people with prior criminal convictions. And we knew that if
we put someone with a criminal record on the stand they would be
cross-examined about their prior criminal history and their credibility
might be destroyed before the jury. So I said I'm sorry we can't
represent you if you have a felony record. And he becomes enraged and
he says but listen, listen, I was innocent. I was framed. The police
planted drugs on me and they beat up me and my friend. I have this drug
conviction but I was framed, I was innocent. And I just kept telling
him sorry, I'm sorry. We can't represent you. And he keeps trying to
explain the circumstances and how he accepted a plea even though he was
innocent. And I kept apologizing.
...represent you and he keeps trying to explain the circumstances and
how he accepted a plea, even though he was innocent, and I kept
apologizing.
And finally, he becomes enraged and he tells me, you're no better than
the police. You're just like them. The minute I tell you I'm a felon,
you stop listening. You just can't even hear what I have to say. He's
like, what's to become of me? What's to become of me? I can't even get
a job now that I have this felony. He said, I can't even get housing.
I'm living in my grandmother's basement right now, because nowhere else
will take me in. I can't even get food stamps. How am I supposed to
feed myself? How am I supposed to take care of myself as a man? He
says, good luck finding one young black man in my neighborhood they
haven't gotten to yet. They've gotten to us already.
And he snatches up all those papers and detailed notes and just starts
ripping them up and he's yelling at me as he walks out. You're no
better than the police. You're just like them. I can't believe I
trusted you.
Months later, I opened the newspaper and what was on the front page?
Well, the Oakland Riders police scandal had broken. It turned out, a
gang of police officers, otherwise known as a drug taskforce - known as
the Oakland Riders - had been planting drugs on suspects in his
neighborhood and beating folks up. And who is identified as one of the
main officers accused of having planted drugs on suspects and beaten
folks up, was the officer he had identified to me as having planted
drugs on him and beat up him and his friend.
And it was really at that moment that the light finally went on for me
and I realized he's right about me. The minute he told me he was a
felon, I stopped listening. I couldn't even hear what he had to say.
And I realized that my crime wasn't so much that I had refused to
represent an innocent man, someone who had been telling me the truth,
but that I had been blind to all those who were guilty and that their
stories weren't being told.
The millions of folks who have been labeled criminals and guilty, that
even civil rights lawyers like me, people who claimed to care and have
dedicated themselves to working for racial justice - we were turning a
blind eye to the millions who had been labeled guilty and weren't
allowing their stories to be told.
And that was really the beginning of my journey, of asking myself, how
am I, the civil rights lawyer, actually helping to replicate the very
forms of discrimination and exclusion I'm supposedly fighting against?
DAVIES: Did you ever talk to that guy again?
ALEXANDER: No. I never have. I actually tried to find him to apologize.
I even wanted to dedicate this book to him, but was unable to track him
down. The only phone number I had for him was disconnected and I have
been unable to offer my apology.
DAVIES: Do you have any particular rituals for Martin Luther King Day?
ALEXANDER: Well, the one that I adhere to consistently is to reread his
speeches. I find that Martin Luther King has become so sanitized and so
watered down that it's easy to forget how radical his message was, how
fierce a critic he was - not just of the systems, of racialized
exclusion and oppression that were manifested in Jim Crow, but of our
nation, as a purveyor of war and as largely indifferent to the needs of
the poor and the least advantaged.
So I find that reading what he actually said, as opposed to listening
to the soundbites that are recycled in the media and on the radio are
important to stay connected to his memory and legacy.
DAVIES: Well, Michelle Alexander, thanks so much for speaking with us.
ALEXANDER: Thank you for having me.
DAVIES: Michelle Alexander is an associate professor of law at Ohio
State University. Her book is called "The New Jim Crow: Mass
Incarceration in the Age of Color Blindness."
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