White Privilege and the Law: Will the Scales Ever Balance for People of Color?

Nicole Gray | 5/10/2019, 11:39 a.m.
To be clear: white privilege is severe and pervasive. In almost every facet of American society, there is an invisible …

To be clear: white privilege is severe and pervasive. In almost every facet of American society, there is an invisible infrastructure, which supports the majority. No beef; just facts. White privilege and the law, particularly, was all the buzz on social media last week as news broke that two white men, in separate instances, pled guilty to crimes against teenage girls and will serve no jail-time. Both cases had arguably heinous facts. One involved a 33-year old Georgia man who met a 15-year old girl online in an anorexia support group, held her captive in a dog cage for a year, and allegedly forced her to have sex with him. The other, a 26-year old New York bus driver who raped a 14-year-old girl he met on his bus route, after providing his victim and two of her friends with alcohol. Putting our nation’s underlying rape culture aside, no direct comparisons to similarly charged defendants of color were needed to fuel the influx of white privilege memes. Since neither of the men were alleged to have any affluence, it is tough to argue that their white-ness had no impact on the leniency of their sentencing. But, as undeniable a role that white privilege plays in the law, from legislation and law enforcement to prosecution, sentencing, and incarceration, I caution that we do not paint the issues with too broad of a stroke that we miss real opportunities to help balance Lady Justice’s scales for people of color. In the courtroom, alone, we often see white privilege extended from the prosecution, the jury, and in the most egregious cases, as here, from the bench. Daunting as that may be, we as ‘average’ citizens have opportunities at each of those levels to help lessen the negative that is naturally produced of white privilege, which is disparate, harsher treatment of people of color.

First, by in large our prosecutors are elected. Right or wrong, whether and how cases are prosecuted within any given jurisdiction, is largely within in the discretion of the lead prosecutor. The recent conviction of former Minneapolis Police Officer Mohamed Noor, a Somali-American, for third-degree murder and manslaughter for the fatal shooting of a native Australian woman living in the states provides a prime example of disparate treatment resultant from prosecutorial discretion. Noor’s case sparked white privilege memes and commentary, last week as well, as obvious distinctions were drawn between Noor’s conviction and the acquittal of Officer Jeronimo Yanez for the death of Philando Castile, a black man killed after a routine traffic stop in that same state just a year prior. My caution is most relevant here because although the victims of the two shootings had obvious ‘color’ differences, the defendants were both officers of color involved in police shootings, both who claimed they shot in fear of their lives. Neither defendant had the benefit of white privilege in seeking acquittal, so that cannot be the issue here. Instead, the main factor that produced the two outcomes was how the cases were prosecuted. In Noor’s case, the prosecutor charged the former officer with first degree intentional murder along with the two charges he was convicted of. In Yanez’s case, the prosecutor only charged manslaughter, a reckless homicide, and endangering safety by discharging a firearm in the shooting. So, from the charges brought, the two cases were ‘staged’ differently from the outset of the prosecution.

The Minnesota officer shootings also highlight an opportunity to tilt the scales—within the jury pool. I did not follow the cases closely but can surmise from their outcomes and my own legal experience that in Yanez’s case, the jury had sympathy for him and ultimately believed he feared for his life when he shot and killed Philando Castile, thus finding the homicide justified. Contrarily, the jury could not empathize with Noor and found his fear unfounded. It cannot be concluded with certainty that the victim’s color played a part in these two very different determinations. But, the possibility is hard to ignore especially given facts that Noor allegedly shot once at what he described as a threat approaching his partner’s side of the vehicle in an alley they had been called to for a possible disturbance while Yanez shot Castile seven times, during a routine traffic stop, as he and his girlfriend assured the officer that he was not reaching for the weapon he was licensed to carry. At the end of the day, the juries had to believe that one of the victims invoked a justifiable fear and the other did not.

Lastly, our justice system is framed from the white male perspective due to the pervasive lack of diversity on the bench. From the Supreme Court to local justice courts, judges have been traditionally white males, a statistic that is not changing with much rapidity. Think of these facts: of the 114 Supreme Court Justices appointed throughout our nation’s history, 108 of them have been white men; the first nonwhite Article III judge, federal judges appointed with lifelong tenure, was not appointed until 1945; although appointment of Article III judges have waxed and waned since the first nonwhite appoint, all 13 judges appointed in 2017 by the current administration were white; and as late as 2016, Brennan Center For Justice data showed that 24 states had zero people of color and another 11 had only 1 person of color or no women judges. That’s alarming- YES! But again, the importance of our vote cannot be understated. In some way through direct election or by appointment, our civil right provides power in this area.

So, white privilege is severe and pervasive, yes-but in each case presented we have to look past the obvious and seek the opportunities, like serving on juries, being active in elections, getting to know candidates and exercising or rights to vote to for prosecutors and judges, or those who appoint them, that can relate to the experiences of people of color. Harris County Judge Linda Dunson, one of sixteen black women elected in the county this past November, conveyed the sentiment perfectly when discussing the historic election shortly after the win, she said “I think that it brings so much more richness, to the bench, to the justice system than there has ever been before.” Of the fear she tried to quell of those who were skeptical of giving the bench a facelift, she explained, “Look at me, you know me, I’m you. I have the same compassion, the hurts, the experiences. We experience love the same. We experience the same emotions. Some of our life experiences are just a little bit different.” She also said of the women’s elections that “[she] believe[s] [the women] will be able to look at people instead of looking at them and seeing their skin color …and try to understand some of the things that cause people to make bad decisions.”