Why I don't take the Ferguson Grand Jury decision at face value

[A response to a question received on a facebook post]

To trust the grand jury's decision, I would have to believe that the justice system operates fairly, without bias, in the objective pursuit of equal justice for all. There is an abundance of evidence that it unfortunately does not. Both in this specific case, and in general, our justice system consistently returns results that disproportionately disadvantage people of color and privilege whites. Because of both historical and current research, and the transcripts of the witness examination and presentation of evidence in this Darren Wilson grand jury, I have to conclude that justice was once again hijacked, rather than served, in this case.

Let me state that I do not believe that Darren Wilson is guilty. I simply believe he should stand trial, and let the judge and jury decide. The grand jury was not to determine whether Wilson was guilty. It was simply to decide whether he should face a trial to determine his guilt. In a case where an unarmed person is shot by another, I  believe this deserves a full investigation and trial, and to conclude (based predominantly on the shooter’s testimony) that a trial is unnecessary, is highly suspicious to me. In addition:

- There is statistical evidence that the Ferguson grand jury decision not to indict hardly ever happens. In a study of grand juries at the federal level, the grand jury failed to grant an indictment in only 0.007% of cases. (http://fivethirtyeight.com/datalab/ferguson-michael-brown-indictment-darren-wilson/). 

- Across America there is well-documented evidence that young black males are singled out and prejudicially treated at every single step of the criminal justice process, from the initial encounter to police, to the decision to arrest, to the decision to bring charges or not, through to sentencing, etc. King County’s Director of Adult & Juvenile Detention Claudia Balducci recently went on record that this is true in King County, WA in front of the Seattle City Council (her testimony starts at about 93:00 of this video: http://www.seattlechannel.org/videos/video.asp?ID=2391472, and go to 97:15 for the specific information on how  discrimination was measured at every step of the process.) This same racial disparity occurs all across America, and it would be naive for us to think similar bias was not at play in favor of Darren Wilson at his grand jury.

- I know that prosecutors have to work closely with the police department, and would not take eagerly the task of prosecuting a cop. It’s a touchy area. The prosecutor also has a high level of control in structuring what and how evidence is presented to the grand jury. In the case of Darren Wilson’s grand jury, some questionable things were done. People who had heard about the event 2nd- and 3rd-hand were called as “witnesses,” many of whom contradicted each other. Michael Brown’s character was called into question, while Darren Wilson’s was not. It seems reasonable to me to conclude that the prosecutorial team's interests were not simply a pursuit of justice, but perhaps avoiding something uncomfortable for them (at least). http://www.vox.com/xpress/2014/11/26/7295595/eyewitnesses-ferguson-grand-jury/in/7041840

- I have witnessed institutional racism firsthand. This is racism that embeds itself in seemingly harmless ways into systems, and yet adds up to ongoing oppression of people of color, while helping white people avoid guilt because specific examples are hard to pinpoint. I have written about institutional racism here (http://crosscut.com/2014/10/10/rights-ethics/122239/seattle-juvenile-justice-center-central-district/), and the Ferguson justice process, including the grand jury, seems to me to have cut a wide berth for institutional racism in the form of prejudicial decision making around its police officers.

- It is difficult for white people - including myself - to take in the full scope of what racism means and entails, and given the history of our country, I approach questions of potential racism with an intentional bias that it is probably happening, even if I can’t immediately see it. A good book for helping me see familiar systems differently is The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander (http://books.google.com/books/about/The_New_Jim_Crow.html?id=reDzBZ3pXqsC)

Again, I don’t know that Wilson acted inappropriately, or whether there was racial motivation in his shooting of Brown. Because of many things - the habitual blinders we keep on about this stuff, and the grand jury decision - we may never know. All I’m saying is it was both extremely RARE for the grand jury not to return an indictment, and extremely PREDICTABLE in this case given the races of all involved, and I find that both sad and wrong. 

Ferguson: Riots are not the problem

To all of you condemning the riots today: if that is all you have to say, you are missing the point - and part of the problem.

It is easy to condemn the riots. But how vocal have you been on the side of justice, in the long months when Ferguson protests when on, predominantly peacefully? What do you have to say about the injustice in the fact that a killer will not stand trial, and the myriad ways Black Americans continue to suffer injustice to this day?

If you are not black, the most important question you should be asking today is, "How much have I looked the other way, or contributed to, the ongoing racism in our society? How hard have I tried to relate to the black people of Ferguson?"

MLK, known for his leadership in nonviolence, had this to say about the episodes of violence that sometimes erupt from long, unrelenting oppression:

"It is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard."

http://wagingnonviolence.org/feature/riot-is-the-language-of-the-unheard-what-mlk-would-have-said-about-the-london-riots/

He Got Game: Obama off the bench

Suddenly, this week, the president we voted for six years ago took the court.

Perhaps sensing a precious moment of opportunity before Republicans seize control of both houses of Congress, Obama issued two definitive statements this week - one on climate change, the other on net neutrality. When the president was elected, many of us expected a presidency that would be something of an extension of his campaign artistry, an implementation of his oratorical dazzle. We didn't get it. Rather, Obama has fallen short on all sorts of fronts, from immigration to the environment to racial justice issues, toeing a moderate line and selecting questionable advisors, leaving us to wonder whether he was perhaps patholigically committed to the dream of bipartisanship, or secretly in the pocket of corporate interests. 

The answer seems to be emerging this week. Tellingly timed in the wake of sweeping congressional and gubernatorial losses by democrats, the president came out swinging. First, Obama issued one of his most unambiguous policy statements while in office, taking a stand on a free and open internet, in opposition to the industry-tool FCC chairman he appointed. As reported in Democracy Now!,  Obama's statement so directly paralleled the talking points of protesters and the 4 million public commentors to the FCC (99% of whom favored net neutrality), that it signals a departure from Obama's hand-holding of corporate partners and his forced congeniality toward Republicans, and a step back into the crowds who helped elect him. With Obama's boldness in arguing that the internet belongs within Title II of the Telecommunications Act - moving it from a special classification (section 706) to on-par with public utilities (as was done with the telephone to oppose the Bell monopoly) - he summoned his talent for a visionary channeling of the founding fathers into modern context, which gave so many of us hope when electing him. (If the FCC breaks with Obama on this, one imagines a stronger, First-Amendment challenge to internet regulation on the basis that cyberspace forms a modern-day public square for the gathering of people for protest).

A deft political move to be sure, but this was only a warm-up. However much we may have fantasized about what Obama's basketball moves might look like played out in the political arena, the truth has been he's spent most of his presidency effectively on the bench. That changed this week, when he revealed he's been developing a trick play away from cameras with the Chinese, which they dunked on the Republicans by unveiling mutually binding climate targets contextualized into each country's reality, which require zero congressional approval as they draw entirely on existing law. With action steps focused on accelerating positive innovation, rather than enforcing punitive restrictions on American consumption habits, Obama simultaneously took the visionary reins back from environmental leaders, and preemptively siphoned the gas out of Republicans' messaging SUV. Whereas the clarion call of environmentalists has been that climate change is the consequence of America's irresponsible lifestyle choices - feeding into Republicans' defense of the American way of life - Obama reversed this polarity by linking responsible climate change action with American innovation and economic prosperity, as first sketched during his campaign with the green jobs playbook Van Jones had run.

Let’s hope the president's moves this week were just the beginning, and that he continues to drive the hoop with the same strategic timing and misdirection now that he's 1-on-1 with a Republican congress -- and leaves us scratching our heads wondering, ‘Who was that masked man?'

The poor

I've recently revised my approach to the poor a little bit. 

Instead of all my charity going through organizations, I bought a batch of $25 subway gift cards from Amazon to give out when I see people on the street who need it. 

This weekend I had the cool opportunity to help a couple of guys from another country in a broken down car fix it, and got to know them for a few hours working on the car together.

Sometimes when I glimpse the potential or evidence of  talent and a different past in people on the street, like the guy in this video, I am reminded that not much separates me from a situation like that. I hope to treat people how I might want to be treated if that ever happened.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=765131930179807&id=102313626475894

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10152679412184416&id=203460429415

Cooking with power tools: Green Curry

You've probably resigned yourself to the fact that as a single guy living alone, cooking doesn't make much sense. This isn't a gender thing so much as economics: unless you're working to pinch pennies and willing to eat the same thing four times a week, it costs as much or more to buy the ingredients to prepare a meal as it does to order out.

However, every once in a while you may get inspiration. Or you may have roommates, or company coming over. In this case, you will likely discover the Second Truth about single guys in the kitchen: you don't have - or maybe don't even recognize - most of the kitchen tools mentioned in recipes. Like a "cuisinart." When a recipe calls for that, you may try chopping everything with your dull knives, or fashion one of those mortal and pesters, but unless you have a barrel and a baseball bat, hand-mashing everything needed for a curry paste from scratch will take approximately 3.4 days.

This is where some guy genius comes in.

If you're a guy attempting to cook, you're probably one of those purist overachievers, so when a recipe gives you the option to "buy 20 rare ingredients and chop them all up, or just use store-bought curry paste," you're going to choose the former. It looks something like this:






So to properly cook a meal you must nourish yourself throughout. Therefore, don't forget:




Start chopping things and put them in bowls:




At this point, realize how long chopping things takes, especially things you've never seen before and that are strangely resistant to knives, like this:



Now that part in the recipe about "food processor" that you thought you were too hunter-gatherer for starts to make sense. So, next step in the recipe (modified for guys) is to go to the thrift store and find yourself something that looks like it might be called a food processor:



Being a guy, you will be very proud not only that you knew what to get, but that it's in good shape and that now you have one. Being a guy, however, you may have also forgotten something like the motor that such contraptions are supposed to connect to to make them spin.

Given that you started this entire process late on a Sunday afternoon, it is now quite late and your stomach expecting dinner sometime is getting quite hungry.



However, being a guy, you are not one to admit defeat. And you are definitely not going to spend hundreds of dollars on a new food processor, much less return to value village twice in the course of making one meal. These fresh ingredients are in mortal danger of wilting or spoiling if a solution is not found.

Some real guy genius is now called for.

Rinse and repeat. Voila.

Cook up your tofu (here's a real cooking tip: After draining and chopping the tofu, boil the pieces for 10 minutes, strain the water off, then toss them in sesame oil, soy sauce, and furikake (seaweed flakes). Broil in the oven until golden brown and turn once to get a second side golden. The tofu will be crispy on the outside but light and fluffy on the inside).

That's pretty much it. You'll be so exhausted and starved by the end, you'll forget to take a picture of the final product, but the real magic is on the record. Remember guys, there's very little done in the kitchen that can't be done just as well with something from your tool bag.

A 2am city

Lie down
In a bed of spearmint
Inhale
Memories of the best desserts
Drift
On the lake's wet kisses
Listen
To cool air whispering
Secrets to your feet

Solid ground only a thin black strip
Of bushy zipper
On uniform lake and sky
The cars in pairs unzipping
Where her daytime played too shy

A 2am city
Lets you breathe until sunrise
May kick you
But only in its sleep
Is content to let you dream

A city at 2am
Is a city I can live with.

Pregnant less travelled

What if she had gotten pregnant? -he wondered to himself. What if they hadn't immediately gone to the juice bar the following morning where she downed a 24 ounce pure kale extraction, followed by a trip to Planned Parenthood just to be safe, where she got the morning after pill and that was that. What if he hadn't noticed after 45 minutes of the most passionate lovemaking he still remembered to this day that somehow in the midst of it the condom had come off and lay deflated, on her belly rather than where he had put it? The sinking feeling of oh shit, there is a price to this, and this is it. 

There isn't meant to be this level of unadulterated pleasure in life. The place they went when they were together, at least it seemed to him, was downright otherworldly – the more time he spent with her, the more access she gave to him, the less he felt like venturing out of the apartment to do his job, to eat, to attend to anything that has to do with what life's really like. The place they went with their lovemaking was not of this world, but the world still had them, and it had extracted its payment.

What happened 15 years ago, there was nothing new in it. He'd gone over this territory so many times in his head, how the slap of consequence stood out as a starkly carved figurine against an otherwise misty landscape of what he thought might have been love. What struck him tonight had nothing to do with that history.  It was the few steps beyond, the road not taken, the divergent path existing possibly on the parallel plane of what might have been. He had never let himself go there before, never had to, yet -- What if she had gotten pregnant?

She wouldn't have kept the baby, he was fairly certain of that. She had her Ph.D and her trips to India and her ascent to figurehood on the world's stage squarely fixed ahead of her, and she wouldn't have given that up, not for him, not for any ethical dilemma. He wouldn't have had a baby to deal with, not with her. The anxiety he felt the morning after - as he dutifully accompanied her around the city, fumbling for a role he felt he ought to have been trained for, unsure whether he should be supportive or decisive or neutral, completely at a loss for any idea what empathy might look like in this case – all this anxiety was sufficiently tempered by the knowledge that he had chosen a woman who did not have that maternal trigger, or... at least would never admit if it were there. The anxiety were more like what he would feel if he were interviewing at a company that his dad owned: where the outcome was nearly assured, but it was still important to get the performance right so as to deliver the proper, favorable impression. The crippling effect of even this minor role was exactly why he was in no shape to take on a child.

No, the impact of the question of pregnancy was not one of having a baby. Pregnancy rather raised the unbearable fact of his responsibility, of a very real requirement on him to step up in personal matters, which he avoided frenetically at that age, and more strategically in his maturity.

But tonight, for some reason, that next thought-step clicked into place. He saw about himself what he hadn't been able to face a decade and a half ago.

If there was a baby on the way, his tactic would be definite, unquestioned, and pursued with a steely, cloaked resolve. In seeing the course he would have taken, his mother suddenly made sense to him for the first time in his life. The impetus just revealed in himself was the same program his mother had tyrannically pursued regarding his father during his boyhood. The plan with the child would be simple, swift, effective: make it hate her.

Make its mother evil. Tell the story from the beginning, before it could speak. Hang the injustice of the world around the neck of this woman he wanted to die with but who could never give him all he demanded. Be the better parent, the victim, the caring one – and never let up on the plotline that mother was the villain.

He didn't know why he would do this. He didn't know where it came from or what all he gained by it. He only knew, with a clarity like the glare that cuts a summer morning's haze, that he would've done this. He would have dug up and exploited all evidence, lured the child to his side, made it his ally, grateful and loyal and dependent on him, and turned it against its mother, for as long as they both shall live.

Just like that, he knew how his mother felt as he had gestated in her belly. Understood the look of being emotionally battered in photographs of his infant face. The tirades against males that made him hate both his gender and any woman who would not regard him. The estrangement from his Dad, a campaign carried on unceasingly, although he felt he had never quite looked at his father or the question of whether he wanted this. His own sexuality, understood by him only through the comments and gazes and dominance by his mother. In one unspeakable impulse, his life made sense.

The road less traveled was not a better one. He had dodged a bullet and spared the world one unnecessary violence. His gut had told him that he would terrorize a child, because as a child terrorism is what he had known.

He returned to his apartment, where he had no child, and he had no partner. And he sat.