It has been a few weeks since Alan Bean and I returned from our whirlwind trip to Mississippi. Since we arrived back in Texas, I have spent quite a bit of time reflecting on the trip and all of our various adventures and encounters while we were there.
We planned the trip to Mississippi for several reasons. We are currently working on a few cases in the Delta and had some research to conduct. We also arranged to meet with other advocacy organizations doing similar work in Mississippi so that we could build relationships and collaborate with them on future endeavors. In addition, we planned to meet up for a civil rights tour with a professor and several students from the University of Florida’s Samuel Proctor Oral History Program. With all of this on our agenda, our days were filled to the brim. Needless to say, I was pretty exhausted and exponentially more enlightened as the trip came to an end.
When we arrived in Jackson, MS, we were welcomed by the wonderful staff of the John M. Perkins Foundation where we stayed that night. The next morning, we met with the Foundation’s Special Projects Coordinator and learned more about the Foundation’s history and its goal of bringing racial reconciliation to Mississippi. From there, we touched base with the Program Director for the ACLU of Mississippi. She informed us of the current ALCU initiatives around immigration, youth justice, and the school-to-prison pipeline and we shared with her about the work of Friends of Justice, discussing opportunities for future dialogue and collaboration.
After two successful meetings with advocacy organizations in Jackson, we made our way to Cleveland, MS. There, we met with Professor Paul Ortiz and several University of Florida history students. Dr. Ortiz and the students were incredibly friendly and interested in the work of Friends of Justice. After meeting them, I was even more excited about joining them on the civil rights tour. (more…)
Jerry Mitchell, a columnist with the Jackson Clarion-Ledger, writes that The Help has been a financial boon for the Delta town of Greenwood (where most of the movie was filmed) and for the entire state of Mississippi. But a comment from Fred Zollo, the producer of Mississippi Burning and Ghosts of Mississippi, grabbed my attention. “[The Help] is hardly a civil rights film,” Zollo said. “If you do anything that smells of race and civil rights, very few people will want to see it.”
Zollo is right. American audiences can deal with Jim Crow racism and the civil rights movement as subplots, but we aren’t ready to face these realities head on.
This isn’t just about popular entertainment. The mere mention of racial injustice hooks an immediate “Oh please!” (with exaggerated eye-rolling) from most white Americans.
Thus it has ever been. In his excellent Tri-Faith America: How Catholics and Jews Held Postwar America to Its Protestant Promise, Kevin M. Schultz show how three faith communities transformed America from a Protestant hegemon into a Judeo-Christian nation. In the 1930s, in response to the renewed KKK bigotry of the post WW1 era and the rise of Hitler’s Nazis in Germany, thousands of “trialogues” featuring a Protestant pastor, a Roman Catholic priest and a Jewish Rabbi were held all across America. During the Second World War, the three faiths teamed up with the USO to tell millions of soldiers that the Judeo-Christian tradition made American democracy possible.
One soldier was so moved by this demonstration of unity that he approached the speakers after the meeting.
The soldier was of Greek origin ad was born Greek Orthodox but had not attended church “for a long time” and had grown cynical, thinking “there was too much that was farce” in religion. He had been persecuted for his faith too and he had, in turn, “persecuted the colored race and looked down upon other groups.” But at one of the Camp Meetigs, “a miracle happened to me there . . . As Rabbi Goldstein was speaking I was standing beside a colored soldier. All at once a new feeling came over me. I looked up to the heavens and thought that in spite of the inequalities of life and all the troubles of the world there was something great and good worth fighting for and dying for, if need be. Chaplain, the young man said, “my religion is going to mean something to me from now on.”
If Protestants, Catholics and Jews could dramatize their unity, bridging the color line was the natural next step. But the National Conference of Christians and Jews made a conscious decision to avoid the race issue. Hollywood followed suit. Although eager to address the issue of “intolerance” in a generic way, race was off the table.
Frank Sinatra and the executives at RKO studios made a similar decision in 1944. Throughout the war, Sinatra had added an epilogue to nearly every one of his weekly performances on CBS’s Old Gold show. He gave a brief lecture on a “very, very important subject known as tolerance.” Sinatra would describe a situation where some form of “intolerance” was on display in America, usually through a fictional scenario involving a child being persecuted because of his or her race or religion. Sinatra concluded his lectures explaining why this kind of intolerance was wrong.
Wishing to capitalize on the success of Sinatra’s “tolerance” segments, RKO pictures decided to film a fictional radio program.
There was, however, one adaptation made by RKO executives when it brought Sinatra’s tolerance story to the silver screen: race was excised . . . The film featured no black kids and, most remarkably, it even discussed the generosity of the tormented Jewish boy’s father, who gave blood to the Red Cross without regard to whether a Catholic or Protestant or Jew received it. This was an odd statement considering there was never any consideration of dividing blood by religion, while the Red Cross famously segregated blood from black donors.
In The Help, white socialites endorse the construction of separate toilets for black maids. Nothing in the film gets closer to the spirit of Jim Crow racism. When we realize that African American males comprise less than 7% of the America population but over 40% of the prison population and 60% of those exonerated by DNA evidence, our lack of progress is evident. The problem persists because, in majority white settings, it is difficult to even raise the racial justice issue let alone deal with it.
If you’ve never heard of Stetson Kennedy, you’ll feel as if you’ve known the man all your life after reading this wonderful eulogy by University of Florida professor Paul Ortiz. Kennedy is generally remembered as a thorn in the side of the Ku Klux Klan, but as Professor Ortiz makes clear, his significance is much deeper and broader than that. Until this morning, I had never heard Stetson Kennedy’s name mentioned in connection with racism, segregation, white supremacy or the civil rights movement. How can that be? AGB
By Paul OrtizStetson Kennedy passed away on Saturday, Aug. 27. He was 94 years old. Stetson died peacefully in the presence of his beloved wife, Sandra Parks, at Baptist Medical Center South in St. Augustine, Florida.
Stetson Kennedy spent the better part of the 20th century doing battle with racism, class oppression, corporate domination, and environmental degradation in the American South. By mid-century Stetson had become our country’s fiercest tribune of hard truths; vilified by the powerful, Stetson did not have the capacity to look away from injustice. His belief in the dignity of the South’s battered sharecroppers, migrant laborers, and turpentine workers made him the region’s most sensitive and effective folklorist.
Stetson was so relentless, so full of life, that some of us thought that he would trick death the way that he had once fooled the Ku Klux Klan into exposing their lurid secrets to the listeners of the Adventures of Superman radio program in 1947. As recently as April, Stetson gave a fiery speech to hundreds of farm workers and their supporters at a rally in support of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers in Tampa. Standing in solidarity with Latina/o and Haitian agricultural workers affirmed Stetson’s ironclad belief in the intersections between labor organizing, racial justice, and economic equity. (more…)
Although New York City is 29 percent Latino and 25 percent Black, Al Baker reports that a shocking 85 percent of individuals stopped by New York City police are Latino or Black. In 2008, the New York Police Department’s “stop-and-frisk” tactics and the racial disparities associated with them, prompted the Center for Constitutional Rights to file a suit alleging the use of racial profiling by city police. Recently, lawyers representing the city attempted to dismiss the case. Yesterday, however, Judge Shira Scheindlin rejected the lawyers’ efforts, ruling that there was enough substantial evidence to carry on with a trial.
Once upon a time, it was generally understood that the police could not stop and search someone without a warrant unless there was probable cause to believe that the individual was engaged in criminal activity. That was a basic Fourth Amendment principle. In Terry v. Ohio, decided in 1968, the Supreme Court modified that understanding, but only modestly, by ruling that if and when a police officer observes unusual conduct by someone the officer reasonably believes to be dangerous and engaged in criminal activity, the officer “is entitled for the protection of himself and others in the area” to conduct a limited search to “discover weapons that might be used against the officer.” Known as the stop-and-frisk rule, the Terry decision stands for the proposition that, so long as a police officer has “reasonable articulable suspicion” that someone is engaged in criminal activity and dangerous, it is constitutionally permissible to stop, question, and frisk him or her — even in the absence of probable cause.
…In the years since Terry, stops, interrogations, and searches of ordinary people driving down the street, walking home from the bus stop, or riding the train, have become commonplace — at least for people of color.
As Alexander points out, the Supreme Court’s decision in Terry v. Ohio set a legal precedent, making it permissible for police to search individuals without probable cause. (more…)
This past October, I wrote a piece in the Huffington Post entitled “Repentance of an Anti-Gay Bigot.” Among the dozens of responses I received were many from my former law students at Baylor University, where I taught for ten years. They were heart-wrenching, revealing the pain of attending Baylor in fear of being found out and expelled; of isolating themselves from their classmates; and ultimately their alienation from Baylor and even Christianity. Baylor bars gays and lesbians from the faculty, and has fought hard to keep any gay student support groups from gaining recognition. It has done this in the name of Jesus Christ, claiming the authority of the Bible.
I don’t teach at Baylor anymore. This week I am starting my second year as a professor of law at a Catholic school, St. Thomas, in Minneapolis. Though smaller than Baylor, it is similar in many ways. It is strong in its faith identity, and the majority of faculty (at least in my department) and students are more conservative than you would find at most other schools. Yet, there are differences, and at least one may be crucial to Baylor’s future.
After a few weeks of teaching sentencing at St. Thomas, one of my students stopped by to see me right before lunch, so I invited him to join me. He had a genuine interest in criminal law, and in particular wanted to work for the U.S. Department of Justice, my former employer. I love talking about the DOJ, and asked him which division he would like to work in.
He immediately told me he wanted to work in the Civil Rights Division in Washington, an important and often controversial office. Looking over my sandwich at this middle-aged white male, I asked “Why Civil Rights?”
Mark Osler
He immediately responded, “Well, I’m gay.” He then began to describe some of the work he had already done in the area, but I barely knew he was talking—after ten years at Baylor, I was in a state of shock to hear a student openly admit this to a professor in a public place. I looked behind me to see if anyone we might know was around, and felt relieved when there were only strangers.
I need not have worried. St. Thomas has a gay and lesbian student organization, my administrative assistant is openly gay, and two of my colleagues who are full professors are also openly gay and are welcome to (and do) bring their partners to law school events. Yet, not only does the school survive, but the fact that we are welcoming to gays and lesbians does not in the least seem to be read as any kind of statement on the part of our sponsoring body, the Archdiocese of Minnesota. We are a community that includes gay men and lesbians as faculty, staff, and students, and stand proudly together as Christians.
Baylor can accept gays and lesbians without sacrificing anything. Yes, the student code of conduct bars pre-marital sex, but gays and straights are equally susceptible to breaking that rule; if potential for sexual relations is a reason to bar anyone, it is a reason to bar everyone. That rule should be enforced evenly. All evidence now is that it is enforced in the dorms, but not elsewhere. If that is the case, then enforcement should be consistent, gay or straight.
Former Baylor President Abner McCall once told a good friend of mine that “Baylor can’t be a Christian. Only people can be Christian.” As Christian people we must be both honest and loving. Honesty tells us that there have been, are now, and will be gays and lesbians at Baylor. If the plan has been to exclude them, Baylor has done a lousy job. Given that gay men and lesbians are and will be students at Baylor, love instructs us to help them grow in faith and to welcome them, rather than exclude or demean them.
The time has come for Baylor to hire gays and lesbians who meet all other requirements; to lift the veil of fear from student life; and to allow gay and lesbian groups to establish themselves on campus. Baylor is strong, proud, and Christian, and all of those qualities make such a change possible without a loss of identity.
To remain an engaged and relevant institution, Baylor must change. Its message to gays and lesbians has to be something other than what is perceived on campus now: That if you are gay, there is no love for you, on Earth or in Heaven. Christ promises more, and so should Baylor.
I haven’t heard much news about the corruption investigation of the Tulsa Police Department (TPD) that has been developing over the past few years. This case should be a national scandal. But it’s not.
The media coverage of this story has been lacking to say the least. A quick internet search for information resulted in only a handful of articles, and the few media outlets that are covering the story are almost exclusively local news sources.
The corruption investigation involves several TPD officers and one federal agent who for years used their positions of power to steal money from drug dealers, falsify search warrants, fabricate drug buys, traffick drugs, and manipulate informant testimony in drug cases. The federal investigation began with a tip from a drug dealer, Debra Clayton, who claimed that she sold drugs for TPD officers from spring 2007 to fall 2008. During this time, Clayton recorded conversations between herself and the officers. It was those recordings that led the FBI to investigate. (more…)
The convergence of three events is directing a lot of attention to the Magnolia State: “The Help” is #1 at the box office, a statue of Martin Luther King Jr. is being unveiled on the Mall in Washington, and a televised hate crime has rekindled memories of the state’s brutal past.
A spate of connect-the-dots articles appeared over the weekend, and this lengthy piece in the Los Angeles Times is probably the best of the batch. How much has Jackson, Mississippi changed since the civil rights era? A whole lot, and not enough. (more…)
The post below comes from Chris Kromm at The Institute for Southern Studies. Asked to comment on the contribution of the “Friendship Nine”, Perry made the obligatory tip of the hat to racial equality and then launched into a standard (and off-topic) defense of small government politics. Perry didn’t comment on the groundbreaking heroism of nine civil rights pioneers because his audience of choice gets angry at the very mention of the civil rights movement. They don’t hate black people, and they aren’t calling for a return to the days of racial segregation; but the civil rights movement is a touchy topic because it makes white Southerners and conservative politicians looks really, really bad. So Mr. Perry, fearful of alienating his base, changed the subject.
Each presidential election, Republicans declare that this could be the year they might win over African-American voters, or at least enough to tip the balance in key battleground states.But if surging White House hopeful Gov. Rick Perry of Texas ends up clinching the GOP nomination, he may have irreparably hurt his chances of luring black voters — already a challenge when facing President Obama — this past weekend at a campaign stop and fundraisernear Rock Hill, South Carolina.During the media presser, a TV reporter noted that Perry was visiting a “very important place in Rock Hill’s and the nation’s civil rights history,” it being the 50th anniversary of a historic sit-inby a group of students from nearby Friendship College, known as the “Friendship Nine.” (more…)
Kung Li with Facing Southwonders why so few white Southerners have ever apologized for their behavior during the Freedom Rides. The same question applies to the civil rights and Jim Crow eras: why have so few white Southerners (or southern legislatures) acknowledged being part of an organized “massive resistance” movement dedicated to keeping African-Americans in a subordinate caste? Is it because few good opportunities for face to face apology present themselves; or could it be that the generation described in Mr. Li’s column feel their actions were justified? The young people graduating from southern high schools and colleges are certainly less bigoted than their parents and grandparents, but there has never been a day of reckoning in the South. AGB
By Kung LiThe 50th anniversary of the Freedom Rides generated a burst — however brief — of remembrance. There was Oprah Winfrey’s gala show on May 4, commemorating the day the southbound Greyhound and Trailways buses pulled out of Washington, D.C. A few weeks later, a large group of Freedom Riders gathered in Jackson, Miss. at the invitation of Gov. Haley Barbour, surrounded by reporters eager to watch the interaction between the Freedom Riders and a man who had a few months earlier said about segregation, “I just don’t remember it being that bad.” (more…)
I wanted to like The Help, Hollywood’s adaptation Kathryn Stockett’s popular novel.
Having read the reviews, I was pretty sure what I was getting myself into. I did like the movie–as a movie. Given the limitations of Hollywood storytelling, The Help was an enjoyable slice of popular entertainment.
Reviewers often refer to the movie as a “surprise success;” which is odd when you consider that the book was a big hit, especially with women, and the movie appears to be a faithful adaptation. The middle-aged black woman standing in line next to us assured us that the movie got it right–she was seeing the film for the second time.
The Help is a chick flick. There are few male characters (none of any consequence) and the audience was at least two-thirds women, most of them middle-aged or older. The movie reminded me of Fried Green Tomatoes, a film about women in the South that centers on a particularly shocking image that is funny because it is shocking (humor is rooted in surprise). I won’t spoil the story by telling you about the shocking image in The Help, but it definitely made the story go. (more…)
Wishing to capitalize on the success of Sinatra’s “tolerance” segments, RKO pictures decided to film a fictional radio program. 
By Alan Bean
By Alan Bean
Friends of Justice 