There is no more important event in the history of black people in America than the election of Barack Obama. I cried when he was elected, and I cried at his inauguration, but that does not change the percentage of black men in prison, the percentage of black men harassed by racial profiling. It does not change the number of black children living near the poverty line.
The Root: We've all seen the police and media reports
around your arrest last Thursday in Cambridge,
Mass., Charles Ogletree issued a statement to The Root that
included a synopsis of the incident. But what have you been going through since
Thursday?
Henry
Louis Gates Jr.: I'm outraged. I can't believe that an individual
policeman on the Cambridge police force would
treat any African-American male this way, and I am astonished that this
happened to me; and more importantly I'm astonished that it could happen to any
citizen of the United States,
no matter what their race. And I'm deeply resolved to do and say the right
things so that this cannot happen again.
Of
course, it will happen again, but ... I want to do what I can so that every
police officer will think twice before engaging in this kind of behavior.
TR: Can you describe, in
your own words, what went on in and outside of your home? When did you suspect
you were the victim of racial profiling?
HLG:
I just finished making my new documentary series for PBS called "Faces of
America." It was a glorious week in Shanghai and
Ningbo and Beijing,
and on my trip, I took my daughter along. After we finished working in Ningbo we went to Beijing
and had three glorious days as tourists. It was great fun.
We
flew back on a direct flight from Beijing to Newark. We arrived on
Wednesday, and on Thursday I flew back to Cambridge.
I was using my regular driver and my regular car service. And went to my home
arriving at about 12:30 in the afternoon. My driver and I carried several bags
up to the porch, and we fiddled with the door and it was jammed. I thought,
well, maybe the door's latched. So I walked back to the kitchen porch, unlocked
the door and came into the house. And I unlatched the door, but it was still
jammed.
My
driver is a large black man. But from afar you and I would not have seen he was
black. He has black hair and was dressed in a two-piece black suit, and I was
dressed in a navy blue blazer with gray trousers and, you know, my shoes. And I
love that the 911 report said that two big black men were trying to break in
with backpacks on. Now that is the worst racial profiling I've ever heard of in
my life. (Laughs.) I'm not exactly a big black man. I thought that was
hilarious when I found that out, which was yesterday.
It
looked like someone's footprint was there. So it's possible that the door had
been jimmied, that someone had tried to get in while I was in China. But for
whatever reason, the lock was damaged. My driver hit the door with his shoulder
and the door popped open. But the lock was permanently disfigured. My home is
owned by Harvard University, and so any kind of repair
work that's needed, Harvard will come and do it. I called this person, and she
was, in fact, on the line while all of this was going on.
I'm
saying ‘You need to send someone to fix my lock.' All of a sudden, there was a
policeman on my porch. And I thought, ‘This is strange.' So I went over to the
front porch still holding the phone, and I said ‘Officer, can I help you?' And
he said, ‘Would you step outside onto the porch.' And the way he said it, I
knew he wasn't canvassing for the police benevolent association. All the hairs
stood up on the back of my neck, and I realized that I was in danger. And I
said to him no, out of instinct. I said, ‘No, I will not.'
My
lawyers later told me that that was a good move and had I walked out onto the
porch he could have arrested me for breaking and entering. He said ‘I'm here to
investigate a 911 call for breaking and entering into this house.' And I said
‘That's ridiculous because this happens to be my house. And I'm a Harvard
professor.' He says ‘Can you prove that you're a Harvard professor?' I said
yes, I turned and closed the front door to the kitchen where I'd left my
wallet, and I got out my Harvard ID and my Massachusetts driver's license which
includes my address and I handed them to him. And he's sitting there looking at
them.
Now
it's clear that he had a narrative in his head: A black man was inside
someone's house, probably a white person's house, and this black man had broken
and entered, and this black man was me.
So
he's looking at my ID, he asked me another question, which I refused to answer.
And I said I want your name and your badge number because I want to file a
complaint because of the way he had treated me at the front door. He didn't
say, ‘Excuse me, sir, is there a disturbance here, is this your house?'-he
demanded that I step out on the porch, and I don't think he would have done
that if I was a white person.
But
at that point, I realized that I was in danger. And so I said to him that I
want your name, and I want your badge number and I said it repeatedly.
TR: How did this escalate? What are the laws
in Cambridge
that govern this kind of interaction? Did you ever think you were in the wrong?
HLG:
The police report says I was engaged in loud and tumultuous behavior. That's a
joke. Because I have a severe bronchial infection which I contracted in China and for which I was treated and have a
doctor's report from the Peninsula hotel in Beijing. So I couldn't have yelled. I can't
yell even today, I'm not fully cured.
It
escalated as follows: I kept saying to him, ‘What is your name, and what is
your badge number?' and he refused to respond. I asked him three times, and he
refused to respond. And then I said, ‘You're not responding because I'm a black
man, and you're a white officer.' That's what I said. He didn't say anything.
He turned his back to me and turned back to the porch. And I followed him. I
kept saying, "I want your name, and I want your badge number."
It
looked like an ocean of police had gathered on my front porch. There were
probably half a dozen police officers at this point. The mistake I made was I
stepped onto the front porch and asked one of his colleagues for his name and
badge number. And when I did, the same officer said, ‘Thank you for
accommodating our request. You are under arrest.' And he handcuffed me right
there. It was outrageous. My hands were behind my back I said, ‘I'm
handicapped. I walk with a cane. I can't walk to the squad car like this.'
There was a huddle among the officers; there was a black man among them. They
removed the cuffs from the back and put them around the front.
A
crowd had gathered, and as they were handcuffing me and walking me out to the
car, I said, ‘Is this how you treat a black man in America?'
TR: What was the jail experience like? Was
it humiliating?
HLG:
By the time I was processed at the Cambridge
jail, I was booked, fingerprinted, given a mug shot and answered questions.
Outrageous is the only word that I can use. The system attempts to humiliate
you. They took my belt; they took my wallet, they took my keys, some change;
they counted my money. And I knew that because they said, ‘We're going to
release you upon your own recognizance, and the fine is $40, and we know you
can pay it because we went through your wallet.'
It's
meant to be terrifying and humiliating. And I couldn't believe that this was
happening to me. And I said I can't wait to get out, I am eager to talk to my
lawyer, and they said they had to book me first. Then I was told that Charles
Ogletree was in the building, and that he was there with three other Harvard
professors-my friends Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham, Larry Bobo and Marcelina Lee
Morgan.
I
was in jail for four hours. I told them that I was claustrophobic, that I
couldn't be in this cell. And a very nice police officer said here are some of
your friends and I could talk to them one at a time in the interview room until
the magistrate came and signed the form allowing me to leave. I was there just
between 1:00 p.m. and 5:15 p.m., which is an interminable amount of time. I
spent the rest of the time in another room, slightly bigger, and my friends
just had to sit there and wait. And it was kind of like a Senate filibuster; we
had to tell stories in the prison cell.
TR: How has this resonated within the
academic community at Harvard? I know that Larry Bobo and Charles Ogletree,
also black men, have expressed dismay. President Barack Obama has talked about
how difficult it is to hail a cab, even as an elected official. Is there an
irony to your notoriety and the incident?
HLG:
There is such a level of outrage that's been expressed to me. I've received
thousands of e-mails and Facebook messages; the blogs are going crazy; my
colleagues at Harvard are outraged. Allen Counter called me from the Nobel
Institute in Stockholm
to express his outrage. But really it's not about me-it's that anybody black
can be treated this way, just arbitrarily arrested out of spite. And the man
who arrested me did it out of spite, because he knew I was going to file a
report because of his behavior.
He
didn't follow proper police procedure! You can't just presume I'm guilty and
arrest me. He's supposed to ask me if I need help. He just presumed that I was
guilty, and he presumed that I was guilty because I was black. There was no
doubt about that.
TR: What do you make of the suspicious
neighbor who called the police with an erroneous report of "two black men"
trying to enter your apartment? Was this neighborhood watch gone wrong?
HLG:
I don't know this person, and I'm sure that she thought she was doing the right
thing. If I was on Martha's Vineyard like I am
now and someone was trying to break into my house, I would hope that someone
called the police and that they would respond. But I would hope that the police
wouldn't arrest the first black man that they saw-especially after that person
gives them an ID-and not rely on some trumped-up charge, which is what this man
was doing.
TR: The charges have been dropped. What are
your plans for legal action against the city of Cambridge, its police department or the
individual officer?
HLG:
I'll be meeting with my legal team, and we will be deciding what kind of legal
action I should take. I haven't made the decision yet. But I am determined that
this experience, my experience, as horrendous as it was and as outrageous as it
was, be used for the larger good of the black community. There are 1 million
black men in the prison system, and on Thursday I became one of them. I would
sooner have believed the sky was going to fall from the heavens than I would
have believed this could happen to me. It shouldn't have happened to me, and it
shouldn't happen to anyone.
As
a college professor, I want to make this a teaching experience. I am going to
devote my considerable resources, intellectual and otherwise, to making sure
this doesn't happen again. I'm thinking about making a documentary film about
racial profiling, and I'm in talks with PBS about that.
TR:
Does this put to rest the idea that America is post-racial?
HLG:
I thought the whole idea that America
was post-racial and post-black was laughable from the beginning. There is no
more important event in the history of black people in America than
the election of Barack Obama. I cried when he was elected, and I cried at his
inauguration, but that does not change the percentage of black men in prison,
the percentage of black men harassed by racial profiling. It does not change
the number of black children living near the poverty line. Which is almost a
similar percentage as were under poverty when Martin Luther King was
assassinated.
There
haven't been fundamental structural changes in America. There's been a very
important symbolic change and that is the election of Barack Obama. But the
only black people who truly live in a post-racial world in America all
live in a very nice house on 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue.
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