Perceptions while profiling

I’ve been pondering something I witnessed a couple of nights ago by my place. These were my observations that night:

Several young adult African-American males walk down the street. An unmarked police car pulls into the alley near them; one of the cops yells, “Over here.” The young men all immediately approach the nearest car, arms up and mostly in front, and they place their hands on the car, spread-eagled. The two cops frisk them all, one by one. No struggle or audible protests from the young men. I’m too far away to hear any conversation, but it goes on for awhile. I don’t know when the police left. An hour or so later, five of the young men have recongregated kitty-corner from my building (if there were more initially, I can’t be sure). They’re talking, then they split up; three head the other way, the other two get into a nearby car. I hear this repeatedly from one of the two: “I don’t need no gun.”

I tried to write the above as neutrally as possible, and realized how difficult it was. Is it possible to be a clear, dispassionate observer? Even the details I noticed were likely influenced by my biases, conscious or not. Shedding prejudice is a rigorous activity. Thoughts running through my mind simultaneously: “Had the cops received a crime report?” “Were they patrolling and believed that more than one young African-American male walking down the street was cause for investigation? I’m also trying to profile the cops. If any of the young men had been carrying a gun, he would have been arrested (Chicago has a gun ban) and there’s no way any could have been back on the streets so soon. I didn’t feel the need to seek cover. Influences on my perceptions and thinking: 1) I’ve noticed an increase in police patrols in my area. On the one hand, it should make me feel safer, but on the other, I wonder what it signals. Are they only now taking notice of something that may have been going on all along? Or are the seemingly stepped-up patrols an indication of growing problems in the area? 2) More than a year ago, I noticed a group of young people gathering frequently outside the building across the street. On one occasion, it looked an awful lot like gang activity (guys repeatedly driving by, hanging out the car windows thighs on up and hollering at the more than 20 people hanging out on the sidewalk and alley—they were clearly looking for someone and both they and the group sounded hostile). I called the cops. I haven’t seen anything like it since a week or two after that incident, but what does that mean? Did the person(s) at whose place they were congregating move? (The building is rental units, not condos—and of course the perception is that gang members wouldn’t be owners.) Or were the aggressors neutralized? 3) I absolutely believe that unjust racial profiling occurs. Even though I know that the other extreme, stopping an old Scandinavian grandmother from boarding an airplane for carrying banned articles, in an effort to be “fair and impartial” would be just plain absurd. (Justice is blind, after all, right?) To date there have been no Norwegian suicide bombers. But “Driving While Black,” even “Walking While Black” is an “offense” that seems to occur disturbingly often. 4) One of my brothers was particularly delinquent in his youth, and on more than one occasion I happened to drive by his car (it was a small town), pulled over by a cop who was just checking to see what he was up to. Once he had gotten the cops’ attention they kept close tabs on him, and he preferred to believe that they had it in for him. It was easier to get into the finer points of cops of German ancestry “harassing” an idiot of Norwegian ancestry (the town and nearly the entire county then was Caucasian, so racial profiling had to be taken to a much lower level). Not all scrutiny is unearned. But zeal is particularly susceptible to blinders.

Hurricane reflections

I lived in Houston from 1985–1987, and in 1986 Hurricane Bonnie threatened our area. As I researched it (my memory of it is poor) I discovered that it was at most a Category 1 hurricane, and upon making landfall was downgraded to tropical storm. Still, we had our warnings, which back then consisted of: stock up on batteries, water, nonperishable food and candles, and criss-cross tape your windows so that if they break, they won’t shatter all over your place. (And if you’re really ambitious, board up your windows.) We lived in the Heights, so flooding was not an issue, but we would still have been vulnerable to high winds and possible tornadoes. We went to bed that night not knowing what we’d see in the morning (I confess we didn’t do the window thing) and discovered the storm had veered northeast on nearly the path Rita took. I never fully understood what torrential rains were until I saw the aftermath. Two days plus of a solid wall of water coming down. And of course, the city’s seven bayous overflowed, which they do in “regular” thunderstorms. As my ex-father-in-law still lives in Houston, and I’m still reeling over the emotional impact of Katrina (even from my safe distance), I did watch Rita with concern. My ex-FIL had planned to evacuate, but when he and his neighbors saw the impossible traffic jams, they decided they’d best just hunker down (he did board up his windows). He’s not in an area prone to flooding, so it was a better choice than getting caught on the highway. It’s nearly impossible to get around Houston without a car. Public transit? I’m still not sure it exists there. And on the best of days, Houston’s “rush hour” runs from early morning to early evening. Even with the reasonable advance warning that was heeded, there’s no way all those people could get out. Houston is the nation’s fourth most populous city. (I’ve witnessed a million people trying to get out of downtown Chicago following July 3rd fireworks, so I’m even less convinced that Chicago could evacuate in any imminent disaster—though we don’t have to fear hurricanes, thankfully.) Comparing Rita to Katrina seems like comparing the proverbial apples to oranges—and not just because of the storm strength. In Rita we had a potential disaster that was taken seriously because of Katrina’s lessons, even though the lessons are somewhat different. New Orleans and Houston are different in a number of ways. The economic bases are different (New Orleans’ base is tourist/entertainment, which requires a ready pool of the hardworking poor), though both still are vulnerable to catastrophic storms. But in terms of potential loss of human life, Houston has the advantage. More people had the means to protect themselves and the geographic advantage of being far enough inland that storms are more likely to lessen in intensity before hitting. The people outside those two cities will likely be quickly forgotten—no solid entity or identity that allows people to remember—even though their losses are as complete as many of those in the two cities (especially New Orleans) that we can so easily pigeonhole.

Sins of the parents

Bemused at Blogging through the Bible has noted the constant theme of children paying for their parents’ sins (she’s nearly through II Kings now), and I have found it as perplexing and disheartening as she does. However, theology does shift in the Old Testament, though it’s a detail that escapes most people’s notice. The Lectionary for today includes Ezekiel 18, which provides an uplifting preview:

Ezek 18:1 (NRSV) The word of the LORD came to me: 2 What do you mean by repeating this proverb concerning the land of Israel, “The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge”? 3 As I live, says the Lord GOD, this proverb shall no more be used by you in Israel. 4 Know that all lives are mine; the life of the parent as well as the life of the child is mine: it is only the person who sins that shall die.

Read the remainder of the lesson here (scroll down to the section for ECUSA).

Messy community

Dave at The Grace Pages talks about churches trying to offer something for everybody by segregating them ("ghettoization" he calls it). I found his comments a welcome antidote to the solutions presented by Episcopal Church "experts" on growing churches (which I might address sometime, if I can raise the stamina to do so) to my former parish. (Former parish's mission was pretty near "Grow or die.")

Jesus is…

I don’t know who wrote this—it came via e-mail—but I find it wonderfully thought-provoking enough to share: There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was Black: 1. He called everyone brother. 2. He liked Gospel. 3. He couldn't get a fair trial. But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Jewish: 1. He went into His Father's business. 2. He lived at home until he was 33. 3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure He was God. But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Italian: 1. He talked with His hands 2. He had wine with His meals. 3. He used olive oil. But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was a Californian: 1. He never cut His hair. 2. He walked around barefoot all the time. 3. He started a new religion. But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was an American Indian 1. He was at peace with nature. 2. He ate a lot of fish. 3. He talked about the Great Spirit. But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Irish: 1. He never got married. 2. He was always telling stories. 3. He loved green pastures. But the most compelling evidence of all—3 proofs that Jesus was a woman: 1. He fed a crowd at a moment's notice when there was no food. 2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men who just didn't get it. 3. And even when He was dead, He had to get up because there was work to do. AMEN

Not for Catholics only

This has made the e-mail rounds, but as I know all three of my readers enjoy church jokes, I thought I would share this way. And in my experience, "Episcopalian" could substitute for "Catholic."

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This information is for Catholics only. It must not be divulged to non-Catholics. The less they know about our rituals and code words, the better off they are.

AMEN: The only part of a prayer that everyone knows.

BULLETIN: Your receipt for attending Mass.

CHOIR: A group of people whose singing allows the rest of the Parish to lip-sync.

HOLY WATER: A liquid whose chemical formula is H2OLY.

HYMN: A song of praise usually sung in a key three octaves higher than that of the congregation's range.

RECESSIONAL HYMN: The last song at Mass often sung a little more quietly, since most of the people have already left.

INCENSE: Holy Smoke!

JESUITS: An order of priests known for their ability to found colleges with good basketball teams.

JONAH: The original "Jaws" story.

JUSTICE: When kids have kids of their own.

KYRIE ELEISON: The only Greek words that most Catholics can recognize besides gyros and baklava.

MAGI: The most famous trio to attend a baby shower.

MANGER: Where Mary gave birth to Jesus because Joseph wasn't covered by an HMO. (The Bible's way of showing us that holiday travel has always been rough.)

PEW: A medieval torture device still found in Catholic churches.

PROCESSION: The ceremonial formation at the beginning of Mass consisting of altar servers, the celebrant, and late parishioners looking for seats.

RECESSIONAL: The ceremonial procession at the conclusion of Mass led by parishioners trying to beat the crowd to the parking lot.

RELICS: People who have been going to Mass for so long, they actually know when to sit, kneel, and stand.

TEN COMMANDMENTS: The most important 'Top Ten' list not given by David Letterman.

USHERS: The only people in the parish who don't know the seating capacity of a pew.

Huh. I'm St. Francis of Assisi

Thanks to LutheranChik's pointing, I now know that if I were to be a saint (hah!) I'd be Francis. You are Saint Francis of Assisi! You don't care what you look like (or smell like) as long as you can live simply and help the poor. You should be receiving your stigmata any day now. Which Saint Are You? brought to you by Quizilla Well. I will be pondering this. I do kinda care about smelling.

Measuring loss

If the rich and the destitute lose all their material possessions, whose loss is greater? I’m asking the question because of recent remarks by Barbara Bush (noted here, here, and here) about displaced people from New Orleans being sheltered in Texas. She seems to be clueless as to what it’s like to walk in those shoes, with the apparent conclusion that if one loses what little one has, the loss is little. I think of “The Widow’s Offering,” from Mark 12:41-44:

[Jesus] sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny, Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

New Revised Standard Version

The Tie Goes to the Poor

There's a rule in baseball that I like a lot: the tie goes to the runner. I think there should be a rule like that in life. If there's a conflict between someone with power and someone without, the one without power should prevail.