DeKalb County Schools Miss Mark in 2008 AYP

Students in DeKalb County, Georgia return to school on Monday. Most of the middle school and high school students in predominantly Black will be going to schools that did not meet federally mandated academic standards. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reports that the number of schools that Mettheir federally mandated academic standards dropped precipitously to 53.6 percent — a 23-point decline from last year — according to results released Friday by state officials.

"There is no magic wand that I have," said DeKalb Schools Superintendent Crawford Lewis, who presented those results to outspokenly disappointed school board members Friday. "Staff and I certainly acknowledge we have a lot of work to do."

Thirty-four DeKalb elementary schools did not make adequate yearly progress this year. Last year, that number was five. The culprit? Mathematics, just as in schools statewide, said Deputy Superintendent Gloria Talley, who leads the system's instructional efforts,

Nine DeKalb high schools made AYP this year, down from 12 in 2007. Eleven DeKalb middle schools made AYP this year, a two-school increase over 2007. Still, among the nine middle schools that did not make AYP this year, Talley said, mathematics scores impacted eight of them.

Although, the school board was upset with the findings, to date, there have been no reports of county-wide initiatives to correct this disturbing trend.

2008 AYP results for DeKalb County, Georgia
(Middle & High Schools, only)

Avondale High School	Did Not Meet
Avondale Middle School	Met
Cedar Grove High School	Did Not Meet
Cedar Grove Middle School	Met
Chamblee Charter High School	Met
Chamblee Middle School	Met
Chapel Hill Middle School	Met
Clarkston High School	Did Not Meet
Columbia High School	Did Not Meet
Columbia Middle School	Did Not Meet
Cross Keys High School	Met
Dekalb Academy of Tech and Environment	Met
Dekalb Early College Academy	Met
DeKalb High School of Tech-North	Did Not Meet
DeKalb PATH Academy Charter School	Met
DeKalb School of the Arts	Met
Destiny Academy of Excellence Charter School	Did Not Meet
Druid Hills High School	Met
Dunwoody High School	Did Not Meet
Freedom Middle School	Did Not Meet
Henderson Middle School	Met
Heritage Educational Center	Did Not Meet
Lakeside High School	Met
Lithonia High School	Did Not Meet
Lithonia Middle School	Met
Margaret Harris High School	Did Not Meet
Martin Luther King, Jr. High School	Did Not Meet
Mary McLeod Bethune Middle School	Did Not Meet
McNair High School	Did Not Meet
McNair Middle School	Did Not Meet
Miller Grove High School	Did Not Meet
Miller Grove Middle School	Met
Open Campus High School	Did Not Meet
Peachtree Middle School	Did Not Meet
Redan High School	Met
Redan Middle School	Did Not Meet
Salem Middle School	Did Not Meet
Sequoyah Middle School	Met
Shamrock Middle School	Met
Southwest DeKalb High School	Met
Stephenson High School	Met
Stephenson Middle School	Met
Stone Mountain High School	Did Not Meet
Stone Mountain Middle School	Did Not Meet
The Champion Middle Theme School	Met
Towers High School	Did Not Meet
Tucker High School	Did Not Meet
Tucker Middle School	Did Not Meet

Read the AJC article on DeKalb County Public Schools here.

Read the 2008 AYP Results for DeKalb County Public Schools here.

plez sez: this is a very disturbing report on the heels of CNN's Black in America documentary from a week ago. this national trends showing increasing breakdowns of the family, an increasing number of Black boys choosing not to graduate from high school, and a very high incarceration rate for men who do not graduate from high school (over 60 percent).

dekalb county, georgia is predominantly Black, but far from the urban, lower class environment that is normally portrayed on the news and on television. there is a burgeoning middle-class Black population here. rolling subdivisions with large McMansions, manicured lawns, a big mall with all the fixin's, and a failing education structure. the sorry state of the public schools in dekalb county will help to depress the already depressing housing market, it will not be attract businesses, nor will it attract homeowners (and taxpayers) who look hard at the quality of neighborhood schools.

this educational ship must be righted soon or dekalb county schools will go the way of clayton county schools. the clock is ticking...

Guest Blog - Held Suspect

A few days ago was "Blog for Justice Day" in the AfroSpear; ever so often a group of Black bloggers will take up a cause and blog about it on a specific day. This week's Cause Celeb had to deal with the rash of deaths of Black men at the hands of police officers wielding Tasers. plezWorld happened to beat the rush by blogging about the Baron "Scooter" Pikes Taser Death a few days earlier.

While perusing the member sites, I came across a blog entry that was well-written, hard hitting, introspective... and just too damn good to pass up! After requesting and receiving permission from The Republic of T., I am pleased to present the latest in the long line a guest bloggers in plezWorld.

Held Suspect
By Terrance of The Republic of T.
July 31, 2008

I don’t remember how old I was the first time it happened. I couldn’t have been more than ten years old. We were in Philadelphia — my mother, my younger sister, and I — visiting my great grandfather on my mother’s side of the family. For my sister and me, it was our first time traveling that far from home, and our first time in a city like Philadelphia. Everything amazed us, from the size of the buildings, downtown to the narrow little houses on my great great-grandfather’s street, with no yards to speak of and no space between them; so different from our suburban home back in Augusta, GA.

Even going shopping was different. Instead of driving to the store, my mom pushed her grandfather’s folding cart a few blocks to a store a few blocks away, and we followed her. The store was a wonder unto itself; on the outside a rowhouse like the one my great grandfather lived in, but on the inside there were long, narrow shelves holding food, toys, and other items we’d never seen before.

Our mother had told us time and time again not to touch anything whenever we went shopping, but we couldn’t help it this time. We picked up toys and candy and other items, exclaiming to each other to “come look at this.” Until it happened.

I heard the shopkeeper before I saw her.

“Put that back!” a female voice shouted. “What are you doing in here?! You better not take anything, ’cause I’m watching you.” I looked up and into the anger-twisted face of a large, angry white woman.

We too much in shock and too frightened to say anything. I don’t remember what else she said, but I’m pretty sure she called us theives and threatened to call the police. I looked around for out mother, who hadn’t realized that we were no longer behind her. I didn’t see her for a moment, and then she appeared, no doubt drawn back to the front of the store by the commotion. She flashed us a look, and apologized to the shopkeeper (who was still giving us an angry look as we left the store with our purchases). It wasn’t until we ere out of the store that our mother explained.

The shopkeeper thought that we were stealing from her store. We didn’t understand until mom made it clear: the shopkeeper assumed because we were two black children we were going to steal from her store, and that’s why she treated us like criminals.

It was a lesson I never forgot, and one that’s been repeated throughout my life. I thought about that first time when I read this article from CNN’s Black in America series, about how being black automatically means being suspect.

For Anthony Williams, being black in America means being a suspect.

The 39-year-old former Marine said he’s never had any trouble with the law, other than a few traffic violations, and leads a middle-class life in the Atlanta, Georgia, area.

But the AT&T customer care representative said he still gets nervous when he hears that police are looking for a 6-foot-tall black man, “because I know I fit that description.”

“I worry I will get pulled over and some police officer decides to shoot first and ask questions later,” Williams wrote.

Police recently questioned him in his own driveway after getting complaints that a man was walking in neighbors’ yards, Williams said. iReport.com: Tell us what you thought of “Black in America.”

“You never know what to expect when you get pulled over by police, and that’s how it is when you’re black,” he said.

ii

I fit the description then, and I’ve fit the description since. The next time I can remember is when I was in college. I was walking back from class, on my way to the dining hall for dinner, dressed like most of my friends dressed on our predominantly white campus, in torn jean and a t-shirt. I was halfway across the parking lot of one of residence halls when it happened.

I’d seen the police car when I was waiting to cross the street. I didn’t give it much thought, because I wasn’t doing anything. But the officers had paid a lot more attention to me than I had to them. They turned into the parking lot, and stopped right in front of me as I walked across.

One of the officers got out of the car and began asking me questions. Was I a student? Where was I going? Where was I coming from? Could I show him my student I.D.? I did, and he told me that there had been some cars broken into in that lot, and some break-ins at the nearby dorms, and that I fit the description of someone seen in the area around the time of the earlier crimes. And then more questions. Did I know anything about the robberies? Did I know who might be responsible? Did I walk through that lot every day? (Not after that day, I didn’t.)

Eventually, the officer finished his questions and let me walk away. They sat parked in the car as I went on. Keeping an eye on me, I’m sure. I thought about how differently that situation might have ended, because I knew even then the truth in what Anthony Williams said: “You never know what to expect when you get pulled over by the police, and that’s how it is when you’re black.” This was before the Amadou Diallo shooting, before Malice Green, and before Abner Louima. But being from the south, I heard stories, and I knew that I couldn’t completely trust the police, even if I’d done nothing wrong; not so much because of the police a whole, but because I didn’t know who — what kind of person — was behind the uniform, and what they might project upon me as a black man. I’d been trained without even know it on how to respond to the police; saying “Yes, officer,” and “No, officer,” and offering only the information that was requested, and then only if they had a right to ask for it and I didn’t have a right refuse. Ask the questions I had a right to ask, but never show anger or disrespect, even if they do.

iii

I knew even though it was years before my father tried to tell me what law enforcement might both projected upon me and then respond to whether I reflected it back to them or not.

I was in college at the time. I’d been home for a weekend visit, and was heading back to school — at the University of Georgia, in Athens, GA. As I made several trips back and forth, loading up the car, my dad sat on the couch, watching television. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught my dad looking at me with what appeared to be concern, as though he was trying to decide whether to say something to me about it.

Finally, I finished loading the car, and said my goodbyes. But my dad stopped me before I could make it out the door and finally spoke his concern.

“Son,” he asked, “is that what you’re wearing to drive back to Athens?”

I was wearing my basic school “uniform” at that time: a ripped pair of old, faded jeans, and a old t-shirt.

“Um, yeah,” I said.

My dad then breathed a sigh that seemed a mix of resignation, exasperation, and trepidation over what he was about to tell me — what he had to tell me, really.

“Son,” he said, “You are going to be driving through a lot of southern counties. Now, I’m not saying you’re going to do anything wrong. But you are a young black man, and if you get pulled over by one of these southern sheriffs or policemen, they are going to take one look at you and get the wrong idea. They’re not going to treat you like they would a white boy dressed like that.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to argue with him, and say that stuff like that may have happened when he was my age, but it certainly didn’t happen anymore. Instead, I unpacked some clothes, and changed into a pair of khakis and a buttoned-down oxford, which met with dad’s approval.

I was still thinking about my dad’s words when I got back to UGA. After unloading the car and carrying everything up to my room, I turned on the television. At some point, the news came on and I saw this.

“This” was the Rodney King beating.

Since then there has been Sean Bell. There has been Kathryn Johnston. There has been Robert Davis.

There has been Jessie Lee Williams. There has been Albert Mosley. There has been Anthony Carty. There has been the Jena Six.There have been many.

And now, half a year after his death, there is Baron Pikes.

Baron “Scooter” Pikes, a 21-year-old sawmill worker, had tried to run from police in Winnfield, Louisiana, when they tried to arrest him on an outstanding warrant for cocaine possession.

But a coroner’s report found Pikes had been handcuffed and on the ground when first hit with the Taser and might have been dead before the last two shocks from the 50,000-volt device were delivered.

...In the year since Winnfield police received Tasers, officers have used them 14 times, according to police records — with 12 of the instances involving black suspects. Ten of the 14 incidents involved Nugent, who had no public disciplinary record.

Police said Pikes told officers he suffered from asthma and had been using PCP and crack cocaine.

But Dr. Randolph Williams, the Winn Parish medical examiner, said he found no sign of drug use in the autopsy and no record of asthma in Pikes’ medical history.

And for every Baron Pikes there are hundreds, even thousand of men like Michael Tillman.

Michael Tillman was 20, with a 3-year-old daughter and an infant son, when he was brought into the Area 2 police station on Chicago’s South Side for questioning. His mother, Jean Tillman, says that although he had gotten into some trouble with the law as a youngster, he had been on the straight-and-narrow, working as a janitor and paying his bills, since he and his girlfriend had their first child. That was July 22, 1986.

He hasn’t been home since.

Tillman is one of at least 24 African-American men that the People’s Law Office in Chicago claims are still serving sentences for crimes they say they confessed to only after enduring hours of torture at the hands of Chicago police officers under Commander Jon Burge between 1972 and 1992. Although 10 of Burge’s victims have been pardoned or given new trials after their illegally obtained confessions were exposed, the vast majority of the 100-plus cases have yet to be reviewed by the state of Illinois. Those men have either served out their sentences, died in custody or, like Tillman, continue to live their lives behind bars, hoping that one day they will have a fair trial.

According to Tillman’s 1986 trial testimony, when he arrived at the Area 2 police station in the predawn hours of July 21, 1986, Detectives Ronald Boffo and Peter Dignan took him to a second-floor interrogation room and pressed him for information about the murder of 42-year-old Betty Howard, whose body was found the day prior in the apartment building Tillman oversaw. When he told the detectives that he knew nothing about the murder, he says that Boffo and Dignan, along with three other officers, became abusive. Without ever reading him his Miranda rights, he says they handcuffed him to the wall, hit him in the face and punched him in the stomach until he vomited blood. During the course of what appeared to be three days, rotating pairs of officers brought him to the railroad tracks behind the station and held a gun to his head, suffocated him repeatedly with thick plastic bags, poured soda up his nose and forced him into Dumpsters outside of the apartment building, ordering him to search through the rubbish for a murder weapon until, according to Detective John Yucaitis, Tillman confessed to the crime.

According to Tillman’s mother, she, her husband and an attorney they called for counsel were all denied access to her son during his three days of interrogation.

There will be more.

How can there not be? A black man reporting on crime is held suspect.

THE police officer had not asked my name or my business before grabbing my wrists, jerking my hands high behind my back and slamming my head into the hood of his cruiser.

“You have no right to put your hands on me!” I shouted lamely.

“This is a high-crime area,” said the officer as he expertly handcuffed me. “You were loitering. We have ordinances against loitering.”

Last month, while talking to a group of young black men standing on a sidewalk in Salisbury, N.C., about harsh antigang law enforcement tactics some states are using, I had discovered the main challenge to such measures: the police have great difficulty determining who is, and who is not, a gangster.

My reporting, however, was going well. I had gone to Salisbury to find someone who had firsthand experience with North Carolina’s tough antigang stance, and I had found that someone: me.

A black woman with a big purse can’t even go shopping. (Or, to quote EnVogue, “can’t look without being watched.”)

About ten minutes into my search for the perfect boot my sister comes to me and says that she has to go to the restroom. I told her okay and that I’d watch Erica. By then I had zoned in on a pair of 9 ½ red Kenneth Cole boots and was searching for an employee to get the left shoe so I could try them both on. I told Erica that “Big TT” needed her fashion advice while “Little TT” handled her business.

So while Erica and I weighing the pros and cons of the red Kenneth Cole boot my sister comes running up to me looking both very frantic, frustrated, and upset. She says that we need to go and that I shouldn’t spend my money here.

Now my sister Jorjanna is the sweetest person, aside from my Grandmother that I know, maybe almost to a fault. She’s always cheerful and happy, yeah, nothing like her big sister, lol. So for me to see her so upset I wanted to know why.

She said that she didn’t think anything of it at first but that when we separated and were looking at shoes on our own, that she was asked more than four times by various employees if she needed help, to which she politely replied no. However, when she went to the back of the store to use the public restroom, one of the employees came in after her and my sister overheard the tail end of a conversation on a walkie-talking wherein the employee said “Who? The Black girl that just went into the restroom,” before realizing that my sister heard her. When my sister finished in the restroom, she came out and realized that she forgot to put on her lipgloss and as she reached in her purse and turned around to go back into the restroom the same employee who just asked if she needed any help accosted her yet again. By then, my sister said she got it and she quickly made her way back to where my niece and I were.

While my sister is telling me what happened three of the employees were standing a few feet away watching her. This angered her and so my sister said, “Yeah, I’m talking about you.”

To media figures like Ann Coulter, Toby Keith and Bill O’Reilly, even lynching is a joke. And for all of the above and more, cotton-picking black folks should be grateful.

Meanwhile, the KKK distributes fliers in Virginia, claiming residents requested information; students at a New Jersey middle school are assigned a project defending slavery; the vice president relaxes at a hunting lodge that flies the confederate battle flag; nooses start appearing at various college campuses, and even re-appear in Jena, LA, and the discussion ends up being about whether hanging nooses is just a prank; an all-white panel of journalists debates whether Barrack Obama is black enough.

Is it any wonder that racism literally makes us sick? (And when it does, we get substandard treatment?)

iv

Years after that conversation with my dad, I was held suspect again, in another police encounter that could easily have gone south.

Several years later, I was living in Washington, D.C., and found myself driving home late one night. I was giving a fraternity brother of mine, also a black male, a ride home after a late night fraternity event. My car wasn’t in the greatest shape. I’d been in a traffic accident just a few days before, and hadn’t taken it to be repaired because I needed to drive it that weekend.

We were driving past the Capitol when we got pulled over. I saw the flashing lights, and as soon as I heard the siren I pulled over. By then, I knew the drill. Don’t argue with the officers. Don’t get out of the car unless they tell you to. Get out of the car if they tell you to. Answer any questions with “Yes, officer,” or “No, officer,” give them any information they ask for, and maybe — just maybe — you won’t have any trouble. Still, what happened then was a bit surreal.

As the officer came up to my window, I said a silent prayer that my fraternity brother — Neal, who was known for having a sharp tongue and a willingness let it loose — would keep cool. The officer asked for my license and registration. She asked if I knew why she stopped me, and I said no. She said it was because one of my tail lights wasn’t working, and agreed with me when I said it was probably a result of the accident I had a few days earlier. She seemed to believe me when I told her I didn’t know about the tail light.

I thought maybe she’d give me a ticket or a warning, and give my documents back to me. Instead, she walked back to her car and got on her radio. I wasn’t worried, because it wasn’t like I had an outstanding warrant or anything more than a couple of unpaid parking tickets. But while she was in her car, another police car pulled up, and two more officers got out.

In my rear view mirror, I saw the officer who stopped us get back out of her car, at the same time that I saw yet another police car pull up. At this point, I started to get nervous — after all there we were, two black males, driving through D.C. at 4 a.m., in a banged up car, with the police units and six police officers now at the scene. Depending on any number of factors, including what we said or did, it might not matter if we’d done anything wrong.

“Is this your vehicle?” the officer asked me when she arrived back at my window. “We’ve had some car thefts reported in this area.”

I assured her that it was my car, and she stepped away for a moment to confer with one of the other officers now milling about the scene. At that moment, a police van showed up, and stopped alongside the passenger side of the car. Neal, who hadn’t said a word up to this point, looked at the van, looked at me and just said “What the…”

I finished his sentence silently, in my mind.

The officer, at this point, was back at my window. “Sir,” she asked me, “do you have the title to the vehicle.”

How many people keep the title to their car in the car itself? I didn’t know, but I knew that I did have the title in the car. I knew just where it was. It was in my briefcase, which was in the trunk of the car. I knew that in order to retrieve the title, I’d have to get out of the car — and with at least eight officers now pretty much surrounding us — walk over to the back of the car, open the trunk, open the briefcase, and retrieve the title.

What if, I thought, just one of these officers thought I was reaching for a gun at any point in that series of steps? That I had no gun — had never even owned one, in fact — was and would have been meaningless in that moment. It wouldn’t have mattered.

...I told the officer that I had the title, and that it was in my briefcase, in the trunk of the car. I told her I’d have to get out of the car, open the trunk, and open the briefcase to get the title out and show it to her. She gave me the go ahead, and I walked around to the back of the car, opened the trunk, opened the briefcase, and got the title. I don’t remember if the officer followed me, and I didn’t look to see if any of the officers had their hands on their weapons. I couldn’t.

I showed the officer the title. She looked it over, handed it back to me, and told me to get back in the car. The van drove away, and one of other police cars drove away. Finally, the officer came back to my window.

“I’m giving you a warning,” she said. “You take him home, get yourself home, and then I don’t want to see you driving this car again in this condition.”

I assured her that she wouldn’t.

“Alright,” she said. “Have a good one.”

I rolled up my window, and started the engine. To this day, I am eternally grateful that Neal waited until the windows were rolled up and we were driving away from the police officers to exclaim — well out of their earshot — “Have a good one? F___ you!”

I laughed, out of sheer relief, but I understood that there was a moment back there when we could have been “another Rodney King.” We could have been “another Malice Green.” We could have been Amadou Diallo, or even Abner Louima.

v

Almost thirty years after that trip to Philadelphia, and my first experience of being held suspect because of my race, I am a father to two sons, who will grow up to be black men in the same world that I did; a world that has changed very much, and very little since then. The youngest is seven months, and it will be a few years before he knows anything about the notion of — or the implications of — race. My oldest on the other hand, is five (or five-and-three-quarters, as he tells anyone who asks), and the day is approaching faster than I’d like to think when I will have to find a way to tell him what I’ve experience, in a way that may help him avoid some of what I’ve experience, but that doesn’t chip away the confidence that makes me smile with a fatherly pride I understand better now than I did when I saw the same in my dad.

Part of me must learn to see them — however much it pains me — not with a father’s eyes, but as my father saw me in that moment before I drove back to school, with the eyes of the rest of the world. It’s necessary, in order to spare them pain, to somehow let them know that there are people in the world who will not see them as I see them. There are people who will see them and not see their intelligence, the loving home and family they came from, their potential or their personhood. There are people who will project upon them what they believe about black men, and about black people, and respond to that even if that’s not who my sons are, even though I will teach them that they do not need to reflect back all that’s projected upon them. And some of those people will be in uniform.

I will have to teach them something else that my parents taught me, which Michael Eric Dyson articulated commentary written for the CNN series, about himself and his brother.

And he is not alone. There are thousands of black men who are rotting in jail cells who have done nothing to merit incarceration. And even when they get in trouble, a great number of black men go to prison for nonviolent drug offenses. Often, crippling racial profiling and suspicion of black men put them on a path to prison, while white males who commit similar offenses are arrested and convicted in far smaller numbers.

The point is not affirmative action for black thugs. The point is that white males often get second, third and fourth chances for reform — either because they weren’t suspected to begin with, or they are given far lighter sentences and far more favorable treatment — while black males are severely punished for even relatively small infractions.

Even though I grew up in an integrated neighborhood, went to an integrated school, my parents made sure I understood that I couldn’t do everything some of my friends might do, and expect the same treatment if I got into trouble. It’s a knowledge that probably kept me out of trouble, because it made me think twice about going along on what might be considered a “youthful prank” for my friends, but would be treated much differently in my case.

In college, I had a white roommate who had what you might call an “all-American” look (which meant, and often still means white, preferably blond and blue-eyed). His father was a bank president back in his hometown, so he came from a well-off, well-connected family. He drove around in a 1968 red Mustang convertible, dressed fashionably, and always had money. We became friends, but I was selective about where I went and what I did with him.

It snowed at the beginning of winter semester that year, and in Georgia that meant that classes were canceled for as long as the snow remained on the ground. By the second day, my roommate was board and decided to visit friends in Atlanta. He invited me to go along, but I declined, deciding that I’d probably end up over-extended financially if I made that trip, and if I ended up not having a good time I’d be stuck until he decided to head back.

The next day, I got a phone call from someone looking for him. It was from a bonding agency. It took a moment for me to realize what that meant, and I asked if he was in any trouble. The woman on the phone just said, “I’m sure he’ll tell you when you see him.”

He did.

Apparently, while in Atlanta my roommate had attempted to shoplift over $1000 in clothing from a major department store. Through tears he told me about being arrested, handcuffed, and locked in a cell with some “awful people,” until his parents bailed him out. While I listened to him, I quietly considered that those “awful people” who were his cell-mates for a few hours probably looked a lot more like me than like him, and if I’d gone along for the trip and gotten arrested with him my folks could not have bailed me out quite so easily or quickly, if at all.

Fast-forward a bit, and his parents hired the best, and most well-connected lawyer their money and could buy — and their connections could get them access to — to deal with my roommates impending court date. The court date came, and the sentence was community service. I don’t remember what the community service was, but at some point my roommate felt like venting and complained to me about it. I listened quietly, again, but with a bit more anger, because I knew that if I were in his shoes not only would I not have been bailed out, but there would be no well-connected lawyer, and almost certainly no sentence of community service.

I knew what my parents had taught me, that I can’t do everything my friends do and get away with it. Or, more bluntly, I can’t do what a white boy like my roommate might do, and expected to get treated as a white boy like my roommate got treated. If I got caught, my story would have quite a different ending. I had to know that, I guess, in order to have the future my parents wanted for me.

vi

I took my five-year-old to see a movie a few weeks ago; one he’d been asking to see for weeks prior. As we were settling into our seats, the previews began, and one of them was the preview for The Express about Ernie Davis — the first African American to win the Heisman trophy — and his experience with racism during a trip south to play in the Cotton Bowl. I squirmed in my seat, realizing that up to that point, the history of segregation and the struggle against it had not yet been part of my son’s education, which focused more on basic things like learning the alphabet, learning to count, etc. As we watched the preview, which spelled out the central conflict in the movie, without making it too explicit, I wondered how much he absorbed, and what he thought about it. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it with him afterwards. Not yet, I thought, let him be a child a little longer.

And later, at home, we watched “Barney,” a show he has since declared himself to have outgrown. The episode explored the roles of various people in the community — teachers, doctors, fire fighters, and police officers — and the refrain sung for each job was “the (fill in the blank) is a friend of mine.”

When he asked us what the police officer’s job is, we answered that the police officers are there to keep people safe. And they are. But I know that at some point both he and our youngest son will have to understand that there are some people who will hold them suspect because of their race, and that some of those people will wear police uniforms, and will be armed with batons, guns, tasers, and more. And they will have to know — and know at a young age, as I learned on that trip to Philadelphia long ago – how to carry themselves in a way that that may be less likely to cause an encounter to end badly, or tragically, when or if they are held suspect.

Perhaps they will have to learn to hold others suspect, and potentially guilty of holding them suspect, until proven innocent. Part of me knows they will, and the part of me that is their father dreads it. Because it will mean the death of at least a small part of the innocence they have a right to hold on to for a bit longer, though they really can’t afford to.

Hat Tip: [The Republic of T.]


plez sez: i want to thank terrance for allowing me access to his intellectual property.

Louisiana Taser Death Goes to Grand Jury

On January 12th, Baron "Scooter" Pikes, a 21-year-old sawmill worker, tried to run from police in Winnfield, Louisiana, when they attempted to arrest him on an outstanding warrant for cocaine possession. Winnfield police officer Scott Nugent ran Scooter down. Nugent fired his Taser at Pikes six times in less than three minutes -- shots recorded by a computer chip in the weapon's handle -- in an effort to subdue him. He was handcuffed and then officers put Pikes in the back of a cruiser and drove him to their police station -- where Nugent fired a seventh shot, directly against Pikes' chest.

After the seventh shot, he was dragged out of the car onto the concrete, where he was shocked two more times. When Officer Nugent was finished with him, Scooter was dead... after being Tasered nine times.

A coroner's report found that Scooter had been handcuffed and on the ground when he was first hit with the Taser and might have been dead after the seventh shock from the 50,000-volt device was delivered. The coroner believes that he was shocked two more times after he was dead.

On August 12th, a Louisiana grand jury will convene to decide whether fired Officer Nugent should face criminal charges in the January death of Scooter Pikes, who was Tasered nine times while handcuffed, the parish's district attorney announced Monday.

Winnfield police officers have had Tasers for one year and officers have used them 14 times, according to police records - with 12 of the instances involving black suspects. Ten of the 14 incidents involved Officer Nugent. Officer Nugent is white; Scooter Pikes was black.

How Tasers Work:

The Taser is a conducted electrical weapon developed and manufactured by Taser International, Inc. (Scottsdale, AZ) since the 1970's. Conducted electrical weapons are less than lethal weapons used by thousands of law enforcement agencies in the US. More than 120,000 private US citizens carry a Taser for personal protection. The Taser delivers an electrical pulse, resulting in tetanus like muscle contractions, and sudden death has been associated with its use.

How does it work? The Taser is a weapon powered by 8 AA nickel metal hydride batteries. When the operator fires the device from a distance of as much as 7 meters (21 feet), 2 9-mm barbs (#8 fishhook), attached to the Taser gun by copper wires are discharged. The barbs may hook the skin, but more often the clothing and the electrical impulse can be delivered through 2 inches of clothing. Once contact is made, an electrical pulse (up to 50,000 volts) is discharged for 5 seconds which incapacitates the subject. More electricity is released as the trigger is pulled again.

Voltage is energy potential, but it isn't voltage that poses danger - it is electrical current expressed in amps (amperes). The average current of the Taser is 2 amps (maximum US household current is 240 amps and the threshold for ventricular arrythmias is 50-100 amps).

Estimates of 170 deaths since 1999 have been attributed to Taser use, and while intuitively the thinking may be that the cause is cardiac arrythmias, that does not pan out. While Tasers have been tested on volunteer subjects, those subjects are "healthy workers" and are subjected to one 5 second electrical pulse. The population being subdued by the police may be intoxicated or in a stated of excited delirium - i.e. violent and aggressive.

The American College of Physicians (ACEP) recommends that agitated subjects be brought to the ED for medical evaluation and supportive care. If subjects are intoxicated (alcohol, cocaine, PCP, methamphetamine) or agitated due to psychosis or other unknown reasons, they may be hyperthermic, tachycardic and dehydrated. Supportive medical care - with sedation and intravenous fluids -may prevent death in police custody in these cases. Laboratory studies for drug and alcohol levels and other abnormalities can be done and treated.

[Hat Tip: HealthLine]

Read the CNN.com article on Taser death of Baron "Scooter" Pikes here and here.


plez sez: hopefully, justice will be served. nothing can be done to bring Scotter back to his family, but it is every hope that mr. nugent pays for the torture and murder of mr. pikes.

by all accounts, the taser is effective in disabling a person with one or two shocks. if mr. pikes was already handcuffed and on the ground prior to the first shock, this case borders on calls for charges of torture, indifference to life, first degree murder, hate crime, and any other fancy legal term that can be culled. this may be premature and i'm usually not one to ask for harm to come to people, but this sounds like a capital offense by a racist and sadistic individual who obviously enjoyed the thrill of shocking Black people.

i wouldn't be opposed if the DA went for the death penalty... of course, in the electric chair!

CNN's Black in America - Black Man

From CNN.com:
(CNN Student News) -- Forty years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., CNN launches a sweeping on-air and digital initiative, CNN Presents: Black in America. These documentaries, "The Black Woman and Family" and "The Black Man," focus on fresh analysis from new voices about the real lives behind the stereotypes, statistics and identity politics that frequently frame the national dialogue about Black America.

Black in America: The Black Man
Aired: Thursday, July 24, 9 p.m. ET.
Program overview: Soledad O'Brien evaluates the state of black men in America and explores the controversial topics of black men and fatherhood; disparities between blacks and whites in educational, career and financial achievement; and factors leading to the dramatic rates of black male incarceration. The documentary also examines the achievements of black men and the importance of the positive influences of black fathers.
Resources associated with CNN Presents: Black in America.

plez sez: i'm still not feeling the spoken word poet who introduces each segment... been skipping it!

okay, i have to admit, "Black Man" was considerably better than "Black Woman & Family," but both leave a lot to be desired. In "Black Man," soledad did a much better job in providing the context and setting the table for the racial strife that gripped little rock, arkansas in the wake of the de-segregation order and the death of martin luther king, jr. but if you weren't listening closely, it almost appeared that the two gentlemen who were profiled were part of the Little Rock Nine!

but the message associated with the assistant superintendent's family was not lost on me: the two "successful" sons (the lawyer and musically-inclined college student) found their happiness with white women (not saying there's anything wrong with it, but...), while the ne'er-do-well son had a child out of wedlock and was sitting in jail on a weapons charge. and the son who is a DA couldn't even find any Black friends with which to socialize with outside of work (look at the gathering at his house).

and of course, ms. o'brien didn't have to look far to find a deadbeat dad who was too sorry to show up on time for his daughter's birthday party. alittle later in the show, the reason for his being tardy is evident... his baby momma is carrying the twins of some other dude! so if she is soooo damn upset with having to raise Deadbeat Dad #1's daughter, how the HELL is she gonna feel raising Deadbeat Dad #1's daughter and Deadbeat Dad #2's twins!!! what the HECK was she thinking?!? i guess she was like ole girl from "Black Woman & Family" who had FOUR kids by some guy (and adopted another one) who had no intention of marrying her.

i guess my main complaint is the same that i lodged after the first episode: this was not groundbreaking stuff! the statistics have been published and rehashed (it was kind of discouraging to hear about an educated Black man being no more desirable an employee than a white felon!). but nothing new and shocking. nothing tying the current situation to slavery (at least, a modest attempt was done on night one). there are no gay people in the Black community? are rap and hip hop artists the only expression of Black culture (what about Blues & Jazz, and pop, and rock, and R&B - all music forms that were invented by Black people, yeah, even pop!). there are Black men in real colleges, we all didn't get our degrees while incarcerated (there are more Black college-aged men in college than in jail).

she made a veiled reference to the light skin vs. dark skin "thing" that afflicts the Black community, while profiling high-yellow fast-talking Princeton educated Georgetown professor Rev. Dr. Michael Dyson (CNN profile here) and his younger darker skinned brother who is serving a life sentence for murder. unfortunately, this phenomenon and scourge of the Black community was not fleshed out... and if you are not Black, you probably had NO IDEA what they were talking about! that could've been a two-hour show all on it's own... actually, every topic that was glossed over could've been its own two-hour show.

i know time was short (only two hours), but was it that short that the only successful Black family that she could profile was living in a white neighborhood, getting pulled over by the cops outside their house, yet braggadocios about the bermuda grass upkeep in that same neighborhood (notice, he was never on tape around any of his neighbors), and sending his kid to a white private school? she could've rolled through DeKalb County, Georgia and found successful Black families living in Black communities, sending their kids to predominantly Black schools, and bragging about the bermuda grass on their lawns! both nights played up a number of stereotypes, and then took the extra step of validating them.

i applaud soledad o'brien's efforts (even though, over the two nights, she said absolutely NOTHING about being Black - or mixed race - herself during the documentary), but her efforts completely missed the mark. before embarking on such an endeavor again, i suggest she talk with me, first!

CNN's Black in America - Woman & Family

From CNN.com:
(CNN Student News) -- Forty years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., CNN launches a sweeping on-air and digital initiative, CNN Presents: Black in America. These documentaries, "The Black Woman and Family" and "The Black Man," focus on fresh analysis from new voices about the real lives behind the stereotypes, statistics and identity politics that frequently frame the national dialogue about Black America.

Black in America: The Black Woman & Family
Aired: Wednesday, July 23, 9 p.m. ET
Program overview: Soledad O'Brien explores the varied experiences of black women and families and investigates the reasons behind the disturbing statistics on single parenthood, disparities between black and white students in schools, and the devastating toll of HIV/AIDS. O'Brien reports on the progress of black women in the workplace and the status of the black middle class.

Resources associated with CNN Presents: Black in America.

plez sez: i waited with bated breath for this show to air. got the DVR all queued up and ready to go. skipped over the hip hop/spoken word artist... that isn't my style, sorry.

alas, less than an hour into the two hour program, i am disappointed with the show. the Black experience, the segment on Black women alone could've run for two hours. maybe i'm socially aware, maybe because i'm Black, but i didn't see any groundbreaking information. the same tired issues were trotted out: single mother households, lack of emphasis on education, poverty in the Black community, rampant HIV/AIDS infection rates, lack of preventive health care, interracial marriage, ad nauseum.

and of course, hallelujah, low and behold, a WHITE ancestor! how in the heck did ole girl think she get that light skin and freckles! oh, not just any old white ancestor, of course, they found a family whose white great-great-great grandfather had a Black mistress, not a slave! he had two families: one white and one Black. each family had a gaggle of kids. earth to soledad o'brien, just about every damn Black family in the US has the DNA of some nasty, white rapist lurking in the shadows of its history. and just think, marriage between white men and Black women was against the law in most southern states until 1970! yeah... less than 40 years ago!

during this time of obvious miscegenation on the part of white men raping Black women, a Black man could be lynched for looking (or whistling) at a white woman... some shit about violating the purity of the white race! see Emmit Till, a 14-year old boy who was dragged from his uncle's home and shot and lynched for allegedly whistling at a white woman while visiting relatives in mississippi in 1955.

i guess my biggest issue with the "Woman & Family" episode was the lack of historical context (other than the white ancestor bit) surround all of the issues that were discussed in the documentary. are Black people that damn pitiful, that damn lazy and shiftless, and deserving of scorn for the failures in their communities, OR were there some contributing events in their history that saw them to this station in life? soledad o'brien didn't go there, even though she is Black, her parents were college professors, and her and her five siblings are all graduates of harvard. she couldn't take that extra step and delve into the why?

why do most of us have white ancestors, but rarely do we know who they are? why do most of the Black families not have two parents? why is there such a shortage of eligible Black men for professional Black women? why is education a failure for Black families at such an alarming rate? why do so few of our young men graduate from high school (less than 50 percent)? why is HIV/AIDS such a scourge in our community? why doesn't anyone step up to address the health care gap between Blacks in america and whites in america? why does a high percentage of Black children suffer from homelessness and poverty in america? why does it seem that slavery, something that ended over 150 years ago, still hold so many Black people back? why do so many Black people vote for the Democratic Party candidates? why did circumstances in New Orleans lead to such destruction of that city when similar catastrophes in other parts of the US don't have such a negative effect?

this was not a balanced story... they should have stayed with the Rand family and critiqued them in various scenarios rather than jump around. there was little continuity between segments (except when they referenced members of the Rand family). there was no acknowledgement of nuance, no shades of gray, few nuggets of information that would have made this a groundbreaking documentary. one would be better off finding a copy of "Eyes on the Prize," which covers 30 years of the Civil Rights Movement in a FOURTEEN HOUR documentary.

well... now, i'm off to watch Black men episode...

CNN Presents: Black in America - July 2008

CNN Presents: Black in America

Back in April 2008, CNN started the Black in America presentations with an in depth review of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Over the course of two nights in July 2008, Soledad O'Brien hosts an in depth and groundbreaking documentary on what it means to be Black in America.

From CNN.com:
(CNN Student News) -- Forty years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., CNN launches a sweeping on-air and digital initiative, CNN Presents: Black in America. These documentaries, "The Black Woman and Family" and "The Black Man," focus on fresh analysis from new voices about the real lives behind the stereotypes, statistics and identity politics that frequently frame the national dialogue about Black America.

Black in America: The Black Woman & Family
Wednesday, July 23, 9 p.m. ET
Program overview: Soledad O'Brien explores the varied experiences of black women and families and investigates the reasons behind the disturbing statistics on single parenthood, disparities between black and white students in schools, and the devastating toll of HIV/AIDS. O'Brien reports on the progress of black women in the workplace and the status of the black middle class.

Black in America: The Black Man
Thursday, July 24, 9 p.m. ET.
Program overview: Soledad O'Brien evaluates the state of black men in America and explores the controversial topics of black men and fatherhood; disparities between blacks and whites in educational, career and financial achievement; and factors leading to the dramatic rates of black male incarceration. The documentary also examines the achievements of black men and the importance of the positive influences of black fathers.

Before and after viewing these programs, use the overview questions and discussion activity that follow to facilitate a discussion with your pre-teen and teenaged children.

Before viewing:

What is your impression of black culture in American society?

What accomplishments have blacks made in America since Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination?

What challenges do you think exist for black men and women in American society today?

Has Barack Obama's candidacy impacted your view of black men and women in America? Explain.

Do you think that your family's history has affected your life? If so, how?

After viewing:

What factors for success did you observe in the documentary? Are these factors present in your life?

Did any of the individuals in the program grow up in an environment similar to yours? Explain.

In your opinion, are there any aspects of black society that could have been added to the program? If so, what are they?

Did anything in the documentary surprise you? If so, what?

Has anything in this program affected your view of blacks in America? Explain.


plez sez: CNN usually does a very good job with these types of documentaries, with a good job, i mean a balanced story which captures the nuances of the subject matter. i am anxious to see their treatment of this subject, because there are so many nuances to Black folk, i am more than a bit curious as to how they will capture them all in two two-hour presentations.

as groundbreaking and noteworthy that this project appears, plezWorld hopes that the people who would benefit the most from viewing it (non-Black folk) will actually take the time to watch it. any public school education will leave you with the knowledge of what it is like to be non-Black in America, but there are scarce opportunities to have the light shown on the Black experience, except during the brief lessons on slavery and the Civil Rights Movement. and throw in the criminal element that stars on the nightly news all over the country, it would be too easy to have a distorted view of what it is like to be a Black person in America.

NOTE: The reason why I blog is to give readers an opportunity to hear and respond to various points of view. Unfortunately, some points of view are so abhorrent and vile that I refuse to let plezWorld be a forum for them. No more comments will be allowed on this subject, due to the cowardly and racist diatribes of a few.

CNN Special - Black In America

Barack Obama began the conversation on race in America a few weeks ago. CNN continues the conversation with six hours of on-air programming and massive digital background at CNN.com.

The following is a press release from CNN:

Forty years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., CNN will launch a sweeping on-air and digital initiative, CNN Presents: Black in America. Breaking new ground in revealing the current state of Black America, this landmark programming features six hours of documentaries, a weekly series of reports that will air on CNN/U.S. and CNN International and appear as part of a multimedia online effort. The programming, which airs over four months in 2008, focuses on fresh analysis from new voices about the real lives behind the stereotypes, statistics and identity politics that frequently frame the national dialogue about Black America.

Reported by anchor and special correspondent Soledad O’Brien, Black in America begins with the two-hour premiere of Eyewitness to Murder: The King Assassination, a first-person account of what happened on April 4, 1968.

Black in America: Eyewitness to Murder – The King Assassination, Thursday, April 3, 9 p.m. (two hours)

In this first installment of CNN’s Black in America series, O’Brien investigates how James Earl Ray, an armed robber and escaped convict, had already spent an uncommon year on the run that included plastic surgery just a month before his path collided with that of the civil rights leader in Memphis, Tenn. Through interviews with witnesses and investigators, O’Brien retraces the steps of King, Ray, the FBI and Memphis police and explores alternative scenarios of who was ultimately responsible for the murder that, for some, represented the end of the American Civil Rights era.

Black in America continues in July with two additional two-hour documentaries that will air on CNN/U.S. and CNN International:

Black in America: The Black Man, Wednesday, July 23, 9 p.m. (two hours)

Perhaps the most misreported group in America today, black men are often stereotypically depicted in the media as convicts, gang members and absentee fathers. Told through the personal stories of graduates of the 1968 class of Little Rock Central High School, their sons and grandsons, for The Black Man, O’Brien seeks to determine whether life is better for black men now than it was 40 years ago. She reports on the disparities between blacks and whites in educational, career and economic achievement and factors leading to the devastating rates of black male incarceration. Contributing expert analysis are Harvard economist Dr. Roland Fryer, Princeton professor Dr. Devah Pager, journalist/social commentator Ellis Cose; and Georgetown University professor Dr. Michael Eric Dyson; and others. O’Brien reports on successes and dissects myths to explore the state of black men in America today.

Black in America: The Black Woman & Family, Thursday, July 24, 9 p.m. (two hours)

In this installment of Black in America, O’Brien, examines the unique and varied experiences of black women and families in America. O’Brien looks at the reasons behind the disturbing statistics on single parenthood, disparities between black and white students in the classroom, and the devastating toll of HIV/AIDS on black women. The Black Woman & Family yields insights into black achievements and struggles and perspectives on King’s hopes for progress. The documentary is told through the experiences of the Houston-based Rand family with expert commentary from economist and Bennett College president Julianne Malveaux, Essence magazine editor-in-chief Angela Burt-Murray, Dallas-based preacher and life coach Bishop T.D. Jakes, TV/radio personality Michael Baisden, entrepreneur and activist Russell Simmons, actor Vanessa Williams, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention researcher Dr. Camara Jones and others.

As part of the Black in America series, weekly special reports will air between April and June that investigate topics including parenthood and marital rates among black adults, high rates of HIV/AIDS among African Americans, achievement gaps in education, careers, and even disparities in life expectancy rates between African Americans and the general population. These reports will debut after the world premiere of Eyewitness to Murder: The King Assassination.

“Only CNN could and would undertake a project this comprehensive and ambitious,” said Mark Nelson, vice president and senior executive producer for CNN Productions. “So many passionate journalists have poured themselves into this effort, turning up some surprising storylines and controversial theories about what’s been happening to black people in this country. The stories they will tell will impact all Americans.”

“As we developed this series, it was critical to go beyond what viewers believe and already know to introduce them to the real people behind the headlines that we report every day on our assignments,” O’Brien said.

CNN.com’s interactive special section for Black in America, available at www.CNN.com/blackinamerica, will launch in late March and will feature excerpts from the series and exclusive interviews with eyewitnesses to history. The section also will include timelines, maps and multimedia stories that highlight the ripple effects the King assassination had on the United States.

Bud Bultman and Steve Robinson are the managing editors for Black in America. Jeffery Reid is an executive producer; James Polk is a senior producer for the series; Jen Christensen and Elise Zeiger are producers. Mark Nelson is the vice president and senior executive producer for CNN Productions. Black in America was filmed in high definition.

Soledad O’Brien has reported on human events, politics, natural disasters and war zones from across the nation and around the world.

Preview the Black in America series on CNN.com.

Download the CNN trailer here.


plez sez: i'm interested in seeing the treatment by CNN and encourage you to take the opportunity to view the special on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on the fortieth anniversary of his assassination.