I just got home after several days of travel. Between living in a non-hub city like Burlington and the state of the airlines these days, it was unsurprising that I didn’t get home last night, as scheduled.
After the better part of two days hanging around airports or crammed into a seat in coach, I was tired, sweaty and cranky. I did, however, have my house keys with me, so I didn’t have to break into my own house, as Henry Louis Gates did. The police were not called; there was no dispute.
Last night and again this morning at O’Hare I had to coach myself – “Keep breathing, stay cool, you’ll get home eventually.” Because there was a real part of me that wanted to get up into the face of an incompetent United Airlines employee. (Yes, United is the worst. That guy with the guitar is just the beginning.)
So, I know – with acid still burning in my stomach as I type – how Mr. Gates must have felt when, coming in from China, he found himself first having to break into his own house, then having a cop show up and demand that he prove he actually lives there.
Was it an act of racism on behalf of Cambridge Police Sergeant James Crowley, as Mr. Gates says? Or was Mr. Gates rude and out of control, as Sgt. Crowley says? I don’t know, but I have some experience with police officers. I started my career as a newspaper reporter covering cops and courts. I talked to cops every day. Later, as an activist, I’ve been a police liaison at dozens of demonstrations and direct actions. And yes, I’ve been arrested for civil disobedience on more than one occasion. (How many more than one? Don’t ask, it’s impolite. The idea isn’t to run out and get arrested. The idea is to make the world a better place and if you happen to get arrested in the process….)
At face value, Sgt. Crowley was doing the right thing, at least at first. A neighbor called to report two men breaking into a house. Had he failed to check it out, he would have been derelict in his duty.
He knocks on the door and a black man answers. Sgt. Crowley asks him to step outside. Mr. Gates refuses. Here’s where the stories part ways. Mr. Gates says he felt Sgt. Crowley immediately treated him as a suspect because he’s black. Sgt. Crowley says he asked Mr. Gates to step outside because he didn’t know who else might be in the house and he was concerned for his safety.
This is where I start to swing toward Mr. Gates’s version of events. Mr. Gates is an academic. He’s middle aged, with a gray beard and a limp. A photo of his arrest shows him in a polo shirt and gray slacks. Let’s call him what he is: A nerd. Maybe black people look alike to some whites, maybe white people look alike to some blacks, but to some extent, all nerds look alike, too. Police shouldn’t engage in racial profiling, but criminal profiling is part of the job. Does the average Cambridge housebreaker dress like he’s at a church social?
Mr. Gates tells Sgt. Crowley that he is the homeowner. Maybe he’s PO’ed, maybe he doesn’t thank the sergeant for being so quick to respond to protect his property. Maybe he suspects the response was as quick as it was because the report was about a black man in a white neighborhood.
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that Mr. Gates was a jerk. He did, however, produce proof that he was in his own home. No matter how poorly he behaved, once that proof was provided, it was case closed, time to move along, sergeant.
I have great respect for many of the police officers I’ve worked with. They are people I am proud to pay taxes to support. That said, I have never – never – seen a police officer attempt to de-escalate a situation with an angry person. The attitude I’ve seen consistently – even from the best cops – is: “I’m tougher than you are. No matter how high you take this, I’ll take it one step higher, to prove I’m tougher than you.”
So, when Sgt. Crowley says he’s not racist, I think he sincerely believes he’s not racist. He just got into a chest-thumping contest he decided he wasn’t going to lose, even if that meant putting Mr. Gates in cuffs and hauling him downtown.
The crucial point, though, is that if the man who answered Henry Gates’s front door had the same polo shirt, limp, gray beard and nerdy glasses, but was white – I don’t think this confrontation would have gone off to the races. A black man who knows he’s in the right and a white cop looking for answers. Both men came to the situation with baggage, but if we’re honest, we’ll admit white America packed those bags.
I come from a family of poor immigrants. My family never owned slaves, but still I’ve enjoyed white privilege my whole life. A black guy looking at me doesn’t know if I’m the grandson of immigrants or the seventh son of the Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. And I have to assume that until he gets to know me, he may be justifiably suspicious. Given America’s history on race, that’s reasonable.
If I walk down a dark street at night and there’s a woman walking alone ahead of me, I’ll cross over, because I understand how ominous those clumping steps can sound.
This ain’t rocket science. It’s not Sgt. Crowley’s job to automatically know who Henry Gates is. It is his job to know that because of Boston’s racist history, white cop/black male interactions begin with one foot in the bucket. If he doesn’t know that, if his department is not including that in his training, then they’re – what’s the word President Obama used last night? Stupid.
Copping an Attitude
I just got home after several days of travel. Between living in a non-hub city like Burlington and the state of the airlines these days, it was unsurprising that I didn’t get home last night, as scheduled.
After the better part of two days hanging around airports or crammed into a seat in coach, I was tired, sweaty and cranky. I did, however, have my house keys with me, so I didn’t have to break into my own house, as Henry Louis Gates did. The police were not called; there was no dispute.
Last night and again this morning at O’Hare I had to coach myself – “Keep breathing, stay cool, you’ll get home eventually.” Because there was a real part of me that wanted to get up into the face of an incompetent United Airlines employee. (Yes, United is the worst. That guy with the guitar is just the beginning.)
So, I know – with acid still burning in my stomach as I type – how Mr. Gates must have felt when, coming in from China, he found himself first having to break into his own house, then having a cop show up and demand that he prove he actually lives there.
Was it an act of racism on behalf of Cambridge Police Sergeant James Crowley, as Mr. Gates says? Or was Mr. Gates rude and out of control, as Sgt. Crowley says? I don’t know, but I have some experience with police officers. I started my career as a newspaper reporter covering cops and courts. I talked to cops every day. Later, as an activist, I’ve been a police liaison at dozens of demonstrations and direct actions. And yes, I’ve been arrested for civil disobedience on more than one occasion. (How many more than one? Don’t ask, it’s impolite. The idea isn’t to run out and get arrested. The idea is to make the world a better place and if you happen to get arrested in the process….)
At face value, Sgt. Crowley was doing the right thing, at least at first. A neighbor called to report two men breaking into a house. Had he failed to check it out, he would have been derelict in his duty.
He knocks on the door and a black man answers. Sgt. Crowley asks him to step outside. Mr. Gates refuses. Here’s where the stories part ways. Mr. Gates says he felt Sgt. Crowley immediately treated him as a suspect because he’s black. Sgt. Crowley says he asked Mr. Gates to step outside because he didn’t know who else might be in the house and he was concerned for his safety.
This is where I start to swing toward Mr. Gates’s version of events. Mr. Gates is an academic. He’s middle aged, with a gray beard and a limp. A photo of his arrest shows him in a polo shirt and gray slacks. Let’s call him what he is: A nerd. Maybe black people look alike to some whites, maybe white people look alike to some blacks, but to some extent, all nerds look alike, too. Police shouldn’t engage in racial profiling, but criminal profiling is part of the job. Does the average Cambridge housebreaker dress like he’s at a church social?
Mr. Gates tells Sgt. Crowley that he is the homeowner. Maybe he’s PO’ed, maybe he doesn’t thank the sergeant for being so quick to respond to protect his property. Maybe he suspects the response was as quick as it was because the report was about a black man in a white neighborhood.
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that Mr. Gates was a jerk. He did, however, produce proof that he was in his own home. No matter how poorly he behaved, once that proof was provided, it was case closed, time to move along, sergeant.
I have great respect for many of the police officers I’ve worked with. They are people I am proud to pay taxes to support. That said, I have never – never – seen a police officer attempt to de-escalate a situation with an angry person. The attitude I’ve seen consistently – even from the best cops – is: “I’m tougher than you are. No matter how high you take this, I’ll take it one step higher, to prove I’m tougher than you.”
So, when Sgt. Crowley says he’s not racist, I think he sincerely believes he’s not racist. He just got into a chest-thumping contest he decided he wasn’t going to lose, even if that meant putting Mr. Gates in cuffs and hauling him downtown.
The crucial point, though, is that if the man who answered Henry Gates’s front door had the same polo shirt, limp, gray beard and nerdy glasses, but was white – I don’t think this confrontation would have gone off to the races. A black man who knows he’s in the right and a white cop looking for answers. Both men came to the situation with baggage, but if we’re honest, we’ll admit white America packed those bags.
I come from a family of poor immigrants. My family never owned slaves, but still I’ve enjoyed white privilege my whole life. A black guy looking at me doesn’t know if I’m the grandson of immigrants or the seventh son of the Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. And I have to assume that until he gets to know me, he may be justifiably suspicious. Given America’s history on race, that’s reasonable.
If I walk down a dark street at night and there’s a woman walking alone ahead of me, I’ll cross over, because I understand how ominous those clumping steps can sound.
This ain’t rocket science. It’s not Sgt. Crowley’s job to automatically know who Henry Gates is. It is his job to know that because of Boston’s racist history, white cop/black male interactions begin with one foot in the bucket. If he doesn’t know that, if his department is not including that in his training, then they’re – what’s the word President Obama used last night? Stupid.
© Mark Floegel, 2009