Alexander’s book focuses on the system of mass incarceration and her argument suggests that the War on Drugs is actually a racially biased war on poor people of color. Alexander’s premise, underwritten by impeccable research, argues that the crisis of mass incarceration has much to do with racism and racial perception. In short, she suggests that African Americans are perceived to be more criminally active than whites. She states, “African Americans are not significantly more likely to use or sell prohibited drugs than whites, but they are made criminals at drastically higher rates for precisely the same conduct. In fact, studies suggest that white professionals may be the most likely of any group to have engaged in illegal drug activity in their lifetime, yet they are the least likely to be made criminals”(192). This statement, like many others throughout the book, is uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable for a number of reasons, perhaps because at some point in time we may have all been guilty of feeling the same way. If you don’t believe her statement about racial perception and if you don’t believe me, try watching any local news broadcast and gauge for yourself the extent to which we are asked to buy into racialized perceptions about race and criminality.
Alexander’s message is powerful to read and even more powerful to hear. She shared her thoughts last month during the Cincinnati Human Relations Commission’s annual Human Relations Summit. At the talk, Alexander admitted that at one point she refused to believe that mass incarceration could be the new Jim Crow. But once she opened herself to listen to the stories of those trapped in the system, she had a powerful awakening. Her personal moment of reckoning came after working with a young man in California who shared his experiences with police officers that he accused of planting drugs. She didn’t want to believe that his story could be true, but she soon began to hear more about allegations of corruption within the ranks of the Oakland Police Department.
Alexander is intent upon convincing her readers to understand the parallels at work in the racial dimension of mass incarceration. Alexander states,
What has changed since the collapse of Jim Crow has less to do with the
Basis structure of our society than with the language we use to justify it.
In the era of colorblindness, it is not longer socially permissible to use race,
explicitly, as a justification for discrimination, exclusion, and social
contempt. So we don’t. Rather than rely on race, we use our criminal
justice system to label people of color ‘criminals’ and then engage in
all the practices we supposedly left behind. (2)
Think about it. Could this really be true? I guarantee that you will be asking yourself these very same questions. If you still aren’t convinced, keep reading. Alexander goes on to discuss that once these men are locked up, serve their time and get released, that they are essentially locked out for the rest of their lives. Alexander goes on to discuss the many ways in which you are locked out, even after you serve your time: “Once you are labeled a felon, the old forms of discrimination-employment discrimination, housing discrimination, denial of the right to vote, denial of educational opportunity … are suddenly made legal.”(2)
Over the course of the book, Alexander supports her claims with a range of evidence from law enforcement, the court system, and the people who are locked out. She doesn’t offer many solutions, indeed any solution would involve a mass movement; however, she does remind us to reconnect with our compassion. People make mistake and in America, we like to believe in second chances. But how fair is it to discriminate against someone so much so that the proverbial second chance becomes more myth than reality? Today is Human Rights Day and the theme is focused on human rights defenders who act to end discrimination. Take some time today to think about the powerful intersection of race, poverty, mass incarceration and legalized discrimination. Think about how many of us have needed and been granted a second chance. And finally, think about how mass incarceration means so much more than overcrowded jails. Stay tuned for more on the collateral damage that is caused by the racial dimension of mass incarceration. If you don’t want to advocate on the behalf of criminals, maybe you can advocate on the behalf of the children they leave behind.
