The Profile

It was a late afternoon in early December, 2006.  Autumn's last gasp.

Leafless trees along with lawns long past their prime offered little wonder.  It was as good a time as any for the two men to take a walk.

They were far from home, yet Drexel Hill would be home for the next week.  Jet lag gnawed at them. The brisk air clipped any memory they had of  a tropical climate.  Gloves on, hoods up, scarves tucked in, they went out into the chilly afternoon and kept a pace strong enough to warm up.

As they walked along the even grid of short blocks they talked of sports and their excitement over seeing an Eagles home game at the Linc in Philly.  Typical guy talk.  Few, if any, other folks were out.

They didn't notice the police car as it approached from behind.  Only when it stopped alongside them, window rolled down, were they alerted.  The officer asked where they were from, where they were headed, and if they had ID. 

The two men walking in Drexel Hill were my brother and his 22 year-old son.  My brother produced his driver's license showing the officers his Hawaiian home address.  Still puzzled by what initiated the police interest, he simply answered the questions saying they were in town visiting family.

The officer said that a resident called the police when she saw two dark skinned men wearing  hoodies walking past her home.  My brother's skin tone reflects his Italian heritage and the fact that he's lived in Hawaii since 1978.  My nephew's deep skin color reflects his mostly Hawaiian heritage.

The exchange with the police was polite, brief.  Yet, the discomfort for my brother was the fact that his son had to experience this moment.  That walking in his grandparents'   neighborhood minding his own business was cause for a visit from police. That dark skin and hoodies made the pair suspicious.

 Seven years ago the incident was briefly discussed and dropped.  We see my Hawaiian family too infrequently for this to alter our precious time together.  The events in Sanford, Florida however brought back the memory of that profiling.  Granted, on a "life altering" continuum, the moment in Drexel Hill is a speck of water compared to the torrential downpour of horror that took place between George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin.

Yet it cast a sliver of light on what those with dark skin experience in America.

 

Levar Burton sat on a CNN panel earlier this month for a special one hour report titled "The N-Word."  Here is the actor's frank answer to anchor Don Lemon's question regarding if he had ever been followed:

"Listen, I am going to be honest with you.  This is a practice I engage in every time I am stopped by law enforcement and I taught this to my son who is now 33 as part of my duty as a father to ensure that he knows the kind of world in which he is growing up. So when I get stopped by the police I take my hat off and my sunglasses off.  I put them on the passenger side."  The actor then turns his body to demonstrate: "I roll down my window and take my hands and stick them outside the window and on the door of the driver's side because I want that officer to be as relaxed as he can be when he approaches my vehicle.  And I do that because I live in America."

I find this matter-of-fact commentary chilling.  Burton's primary default with police isn't to rest on his notoriety as a respected, award winning actor.   His default is to put the officer at ease because he knows his skin color is already cause for tension.

I've heard many versions of what is often referred to as "The Talk" when mothers and fathers talk primarily to their dark skinned sons about the real world of profiling.  It is distressing to think how dangerous a simple walk or drive home can be for some Americans.

Here is the link to the CNN special containing Levar Burton's comments - minute marker 5:40 to 6:25.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ims2qlfIjEU