The Felons' World
The New Jim Crow's fourth chapter continued the book's long string of harsh truths. While the second chapter focused on how black people were targeted by the war on drugs, and the third chapter focused on the racially unfair legal system, the fourth focuses on what comes at the end of the corrections system: getting out of jail, and life for anyone with a criminal record. This was another topic I knew little about going into this book, but it proved to be incredibly interesting.
One of the many issues this chapter focuses on is criminals' inability to vote after being reintegrated into society. At first, the idea of banning criminals from voting seemed reasonable to me, but that was before I knew what our society saw as a "criminal." On page 159, Alexander writes about an African-American Vietnam veteran named Drake, who was jailed for five years as a repeat offender for the possession of a small amount of marijuana. After this issue many would consider minor, however, he was banned from voting until he could pay off $900 in court costs, which was virtually impossible for someone in the kind of low-end job you can get after coming out of prison. Alexander quotes him on page 160, saying "I was on the 1965 voting rights march from Selma. I was fifteen years old. At eighteen, I was in Vietnam fighting for my country. And now? Unemployed and they won't allow me to vote." He says that the legal system treats marijuana possession as treason, and while that's a bit of an exaggeration, the fact that something as small as marijuana possession can revoke a right you personally fought for, won, and fought to protect? That is beyond unreasonable.
On page 164, Alexander quotes a black minister. "Felony is the new N-word. They don't have to call you a n****r anymore. They just say you're a felon." I'd be lying if I said this wasn't one of the most powerful quotes I've ever read. Our laws and policies are "tough on crime," and that's theoretically color-blind, but we often forget that black people are disproportionately labeled as criminals, and we also forget to distinguish the person from the crime. We forget that the criminal is a 65-year old Vietnam veteran, and while jail time may be reasonable for many crimes, the person loses their identity and becomes a felon upon exiting the system. A black hero goes through the color-blind system and comes out a villain, no longer welcome in the world of those with a clean record.
Ultimately, this chapter reminded me of an article we covered in class, one titled: Spit On, Yelled At, Attacked: Chinese-Americans Fear for Their Safety. In this article, which focuses on the effects of COVID-19 on the unfair treatment of all Asians in America, the following quote struck with me:
"For American-born Asians, there is a sudden sense of being watched that is as unsettling as it is unfamiliar. “It’s a look of disdain,” said Chil Kong, a Korean-American theater director in Maryland. “It’s just: ‘How dare you exist in my world? You are a reminder of this disease, and you don’t belong in my world.’” He added: “It’s especially hard when you grow up here and expect this world to be yours equally. But we do not live in that world anymore. That world does not exist.”"
This idea of a world in which people of color do not live is present in both this article and The New Jim Crow. However, I'd argue that we DO all live in the same world... but that world is one that can be taken away from you at a moment's notice without a good reason. This world of freedom and respect from others is taken away from someone who has been arrested just as it has been taken away from so many Asians in America due to COVID-19. Yes, black people live in this supposedly empowering, color-blind world with white people like me, but unlike me, black people have to live in fear of being taken away into the world of corrections, and when they try to come back, the door is locked. That is how racial castes are created: society doesn't hate black people, but it hates criminals, and society has decided that criminals are usually black.
One of the many issues this chapter focuses on is criminals' inability to vote after being reintegrated into society. At first, the idea of banning criminals from voting seemed reasonable to me, but that was before I knew what our society saw as a "criminal." On page 159, Alexander writes about an African-American Vietnam veteran named Drake, who was jailed for five years as a repeat offender for the possession of a small amount of marijuana. After this issue many would consider minor, however, he was banned from voting until he could pay off $900 in court costs, which was virtually impossible for someone in the kind of low-end job you can get after coming out of prison. Alexander quotes him on page 160, saying "I was on the 1965 voting rights march from Selma. I was fifteen years old. At eighteen, I was in Vietnam fighting for my country. And now? Unemployed and they won't allow me to vote." He says that the legal system treats marijuana possession as treason, and while that's a bit of an exaggeration, the fact that something as small as marijuana possession can revoke a right you personally fought for, won, and fought to protect? That is beyond unreasonable.
On page 164, Alexander quotes a black minister. "Felony is the new N-word. They don't have to call you a n****r anymore. They just say you're a felon." I'd be lying if I said this wasn't one of the most powerful quotes I've ever read. Our laws and policies are "tough on crime," and that's theoretically color-blind, but we often forget that black people are disproportionately labeled as criminals, and we also forget to distinguish the person from the crime. We forget that the criminal is a 65-year old Vietnam veteran, and while jail time may be reasonable for many crimes, the person loses their identity and becomes a felon upon exiting the system. A black hero goes through the color-blind system and comes out a villain, no longer welcome in the world of those with a clean record.
Ultimately, this chapter reminded me of an article we covered in class, one titled: Spit On, Yelled At, Attacked: Chinese-Americans Fear for Their Safety. In this article, which focuses on the effects of COVID-19 on the unfair treatment of all Asians in America, the following quote struck with me:
"For American-born Asians, there is a sudden sense of being watched that is as unsettling as it is unfamiliar. “It’s a look of disdain,” said Chil Kong, a Korean-American theater director in Maryland. “It’s just: ‘How dare you exist in my world? You are a reminder of this disease, and you don’t belong in my world.’” He added: “It’s especially hard when you grow up here and expect this world to be yours equally. But we do not live in that world anymore. That world does not exist.”"
This idea of a world in which people of color do not live is present in both this article and The New Jim Crow. However, I'd argue that we DO all live in the same world... but that world is one that can be taken away from you at a moment's notice without a good reason. This world of freedom and respect from others is taken away from someone who has been arrested just as it has been taken away from so many Asians in America due to COVID-19. Yes, black people live in this supposedly empowering, color-blind world with white people like me, but unlike me, black people have to live in fear of being taken away into the world of corrections, and when they try to come back, the door is locked. That is how racial castes are created: society doesn't hate black people, but it hates criminals, and society has decided that criminals are usually black.
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