Amnesty Now
Profiles of the Profiled
Racial profiling ranks high among the human rights abuses that U.S. law enforcement authorities most frequently commit. An AIUSA analysis of national opinion polls suggest that there are as many racial profiling victims in the United States as there are people in Canada (approximately 32 million). It is also clear the scope of racial profiling in America has expanded greatly since 9/11. Today, “driving while black or brown”—that infamous law enforcement practice of targeting African American, Latino, and Native American drivers—has been joined by “worshipping while Muslim,” “walking while South Asian,” “driving while Native American,” and “flying while Middle Eastern.”
While racial profiling is taking new forms, it is a centuries-old problem with deep roots in colonial repression. In too many communities today—despite the courageous actions and reforms put in place by many good people in law enforcement—old patterns of racial subjugation, humiliation, and harassment persist side by side with relatively new ones that have emerged since 9/11.
The stories of Donald Boyd, Louis Gray, and Dr.
Sandra Rana, an African American man, a Native American man, and a Muslim
woman, need to be heard—if only to remind us how far our nation has
come, only to have so far still to go.
-- Benjamin Jealous
Louis Gray
President of Tulsa Indian Coalition Against Racism, Bartlesville, Okla.
The threat and humiliation of racial profiling appears to be an everyday experience for the Oklahoma Indian. It’s not uncommon for law enforcement officials to set up roadblocks outside Indian ceremonies. To many Indians, the ceremony is like a church event, so it affects us from a religious standpoint. Because we sing traditional songs, it affects us from a cultural standpoint. So it’s like a trifecta: it’s our race, our culture, and our religion being profiled by the police for harassment.
When the Osage Nation started selling tribal license plates, I got one. I’m proud to be an Indian, and I couldn’t wait to put it on my car. Well, I had no problem in Osage County. But when I’d drive to Bartlesville, I’d get pulled over frequently. I wouldn’t know why. I’d be on the roadside for 20 or 30 minutes. And they’d check my record, then come back and give me a warning or a ticket. Once it was for going two miles over the speed limit and once for illegal lane change—even though I signaled, it wasn’t soon enough. Or they’d say, “Have a good day.” I’d get stopped about once a month. I always paid the ticket. I didn’t really think of it as racial profiling at the time, and I didn’t think I was being pulled over because of my tags.
After I got married, my wife and I moved to Bartlesville, and I had to purchase
state tags. I’ve been here for three years and I haven’t been
stopped once. I’m still the same person; I drive the same way, in
the same car.
But my past experiences still affect me. When I drive in Bartlesville I make sure my seat belt is on tight and that my hands are at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. It raises my anxiety, even if I’m just going for a hamburger or to the store.
I even tell my kids to sit up. I don’t want authorities to think anything crazy is going on in the car. I don’t want to say I live in fear, but I live with an understanding that I can be in harm’s way by being out at a certain hour.
Indians don’t feel they get justice by complaining very much.
If we get mad at the [authorities], they’re going to deal with our anger. But if we show them our pain, they’re going to have to deal with that. And we feel we’ll progress a lot further that way. Things are going to get better, I feel pretty confident of that. Maybe only because I’m not going to give up.
Donald Boyd
Chicago, Ill.
I have been a victim of racial profiling since I was 17 years old. Once I was walking to the cleaners. I stopped to talk to some young men about the activities they were engaged in—suggesting they attend school, get their GEDs or work construction.
When I walked away, the police just automatically accused me of purchasing drugs. Two officers jumped out of a car and kept asking, “What did they sell you?” I repeatedly replied no one sold me anything. One officer started to search me. Then they cuffed me and drove me to a police substation. When I asked what I was being charged with, they replied: "A controlled substance." From then on, they did not answer any of my questions.
The next morning they loaded 45 people into a van made for 32. The men were almost all black and Latino. When we arrived at Cook County Jail, sheriff’s deputies, dressed in riot gear, met us. They shouted obscenities and threats. The deputies assaulted several people, including me, for supposedly not complying with their every word.
At each step in the process—arrest, detention and bond hearing—we were lined up, and numbers were scribbled on our arms with black marking pens, like we were animals. In court, you appear before a judge, but via a television screen. You don't get to speak, and the judge never even looks you in the face.
They charged me with possession of a controlled substance and set my bail at $5,000. I soon found out that no one entering this place has the presumption of innocence. You are a criminal in the eyes of these people even before appearing before a judge. The person's character, position and humanity are not an issue here. All they see is what you look like and where you live. They treat our communities with disdain and contempt. I had to hire a lawyer and spend thousands of dollars to get the charges dismissed.
The Chicago Police Department’s actions are a continued violation of the rights of citizens who visit high-crime areas of the city. I am 62 years old, and I have been reared in this city. I refuse to be a victim of the gangs who boast control over city turf; I also refuse to submit to police and a justice system that is disrespectful of my personal freedom.
The situation has been this way for me from cradle to grave. There have to be changes.
Dr. Sandra Rana
Broken Arrow, Okla.
I’ve had two troubling experiences in airports.
Prior to 9/11, I traveled with an interfaith group to the Holy Land. We’d
just deplaned and were waiting to clear Customs, when one friend asked to
have his picture taken. After I took the picture, a Customs official came
over, yelling and screaming and waving his arms. He threatened me: “I
can confiscate your camera. And see those machine guns?
I can get one of those and shoot you for that.” He said I’d
endangered everyone’s lives by taking the picture because some officers
were working undercover.
Ironically, people around us were still taking pictures. That did not seem
to be of any concern. He apparently was triggered because I wore a headscarf,
for there was no other explanation for his actions. I was frightened,
humiliated and embarrassed.
The post-9/11 security has also been a factor. Our family was returning from a visit to my parents. My son Omar and his grandfather had built his Boy Scout pinewood derby car. The security guard at the checkpoint asked who was named Omar. Even though he was a 9-year-old boy, they took him past the metal detectors to be searched. The lead weights in the car showed up on the X-ray. So they opened the pinewood derby car box to search the car. Before they decided to take the car apart, someone recognized it as a derby car and stopped the search.
It’s pretty sad that people are being pulled by name only. After all, when you profile someone named Omar, you may have singled out someone named for Omar Bradley, the great American general who helped liberate Europe from the Nazis.
I do not wear a scarf on a plane anymore. I monitor what my children wear
and tell them not to use any foreign language that might trigger concern
in the airport.
We can have security and positive community relations.
I certainly want security. And the local police in Tulsa have been outstanding. But I want all law enforcement to do their job and do it wisely. Our security resources need to be conserved and should target those people who need to be targeted, without undue harassment and discrimination of others.
AIUSA Takes on Racial Profiling
After convening hearings nationwide and studying racial profiling for more than one year, AIUSA in September released “Threat and Humiliation: Racial Profiling, Domestic Security, and Human Rights in the United States,” a 50-page report providing a distressing view of law enforcement practices toward people of color in the United States.
“Racial profiling is to the 21st Century what Jim Crow laws were to the last, turning entire groups of people into second-class citizens and denying them the rights to which we all are due,” said Curt Goering, AIUSA Senior Deputy Executive Director, at a Washington, D.C., press conference that was covered by more than 500 news outlets, including CNN, BET and Univision.
Now AIUSA is campaigning for passage of the "End Racial Profiling Act of 2004" (ERPA) (S.2132 and H.R.3847) to define and ban all forms of racial profiling and to demand accountability for agencies that do not comply.
No one should be born a suspect. Encourage your Senators and Representative to support ERPA. Take action.
