Endangered (20 page)

“I am not going to sit here and listen to this crap,” Dembe exploded. “If this defendant was a white boy and all the other facts were the same, I still would be seeking to have this case waived to adult court. I still would try him on murder one charges,” she insisted.

“I'm sorry but the statistics prove you wrong,” Roger assured her. “Your pursuit would be different, and you wouldn't even know why. Most likely it wouldn't even cross your mind. We stop, arrest, convict, and sentence defendants in this country—significantly, quietly, most assuredly—on the basis of race. We have damn near destroyed a whole community because of it.” Roger turned squarely to the judge. “Under the rules you are free to consider any other relevant factors in your determination on the waiver. I ask you to consider his race. But this time, don't hold his color against him. Don't damn him because of it. Use it to correct a wrong that has existed for far too long.”

The judge's chambers were silent. Dembe, Roger, and Calvin anxiously waited for the judge to speak. He was visibly agitated, vigorously stroking his brow.

He held his arm up stiff, pointing toward the door. “Go wait in my courtroom while I take this under advisement. Wait for my decision.”

 

THROUGHOUT THE COURT PROCEEDINGS, REPORTERS DISCREETLY SENT TEXT messages and answered calls, obviously preparing their stories.

Janae was relieved to see Roger and Calvin reappear in the courtroom. She was disappointed that she couldn't read their faces or body language. She walked over to the bar of the court, getting as close as possible to the defense table.

“Malik,” she called quietly. He tilted his head slightly to the left, with his eyes wide on her. For Janae it was like he was three again. The few steps between them were miles. “I love you,” she mouthed.

He smiled.

“So what is going on?” Janae asked Roger and Calvin.

Roger rubbed his entire face with his hand. “We're waiting.”

She raised her brow with palpable curiosity.

“The judge ordered us to wait here in the courtroom for his decision,” Calvin responded.

Roger shifted his body impatiently, turning away from his cocounsel. “He's going to go our way.”

Instantly, Calvin raised his arms. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“What?”

“Getting her hopes up. Promising outcomes that you know you can't guarantee—when all we have to do is wait. Let's just wait.”

“Is it really better that she sit here terrified for no good reason?” He winked at Janae. “This is going our way.”

Two and a half hours later, the judge labored through the side door that led from his chambers. Before he was even fully seated he began, “I had the opportunity to review the entire file here. I listened to the testimony of all the witnesses, arguments on both sides, and I have made my decision regarding the waiver. It is my decision . . . Well, before I get to that”—and now he turned to Malik and addressed him as though they were the only two in the room—“I want you to stand for this.”

Malik looked over at his attorneys. Calvin nudged him with his elbow. Malik grabbed the arms of his chair for assistance to stand. Janae scooted forward in her seat. She wished she could be right there beside him. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the back of her son.
Stand up tall, Malik. Stop looking down at the table. Let the judge know you take what he says seriously.

Calvin whispered something to Malik. Malik straightened his body and faced the judge squarely.

Judge McCormick leaned forward. “Before I give my decision, I want to hear from you, young man. What do you—”

“Your Honor,” Calvin interjected, his face contorted with concern. “In light of the future trial, I'm going to have to advise my client to remain—”

The judge raised his hand to silence Calvin while his eyes were razor-sharp on Malik.

Malik turned quickly to his mother.

Janae smiled softly and nodded to let him know it was okay to speak to the judge. She stood up behind her son, and so did Tameka, Loretta, and Kim—their hands locked together. The entire courtroom was still.

Malik looked the judge squarely in the eyes. “Troy is my friend.” His words pierced the silence. “I am
not
an animal. I just want to go home to my mom.” His voice cracked. “I am a good kid. I swear I am.”

Janae's lips quivered as she stepped toward her son.

The judge looked down at his notes for several seconds before he addressed the court. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “I've had the chance to review your school records. Your grades are decent. You probably could do better, but they are still solid. And you've never been in any trouble with the law.”

ADA Dembe shifted in her chair, visibly uncomfortable. She sighed under her breath, “Yeah, except for the current murder one charge against you.”

“The charges against you are most serious. You have been accused of killing another human being. There is nothing graver than that. Not withstanding the charges, I cannot say that you are beyond rehabilitation, which is a consideration in this waiver. As you stand here before me, I do not see a threat to society. I see a kid . . .
a good kid
. I see your mother's love and your community's commitment to you. The case against you will be adjudicated here in juvenile court.”

“Oh God, thank you!” Janae's voice bellowed from the gallery. She covered her mouth with her hands. She bowed down, her head dropping to her legs, and quietly cried. Loretta rubbed her back in wide slow circles as joyful tears stained her face.

“The record will reflect that my decision is based on several factors, including the defendant's lack of a criminal record, and the fact that up and until the time in question he was enrolled in school and attending. The prosecution has presented more questions than answers in attempting to establish a prima facie case against the defendant. And although I am not prepared to discharge the case outright, I will forewarn the prosecution it better come with answers the next time you step into my courtroom.” The judge cleared his throat, and the sound echoed through the courtroom. He leaned forward in his seat while stroking his chin with his right hand. “Under the rules, I am empowered to consider any other relevant factors in making my determination. I take into account the defendant's racial background. This court and courts throughout Pennsylvania and the country have systematically and disproportionately waived black boys to adult court. It has reached a point now where a substantial majority of the juvenile defendants waived to adult court are African-American boys, followed by Hispanic boys. I've spent the last two and a half hours trying to justify that fact. And I can't. It is a travesty. We have become comfortable with the notion of blackness, crime, and poverty being synonymous. We justify profiling black youth, using excessive force against them as though they were a problem in themselves.
We
are the problem.” He plucked his black robe with his hands. “Hear me, reporters. I want you to quote me right,” he said as he pointed to the row of white men seated just behind Janae. “It is a damn shame that we enslaved their ancestors, emasculated their fathers, and that now we are throwing
them
away by locking them up in droves. There has to be a better way.”

Roger smiled as he leaned into Calvin. “Things just got real interesting.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

“SO YOU'RE JANAE WILLIAMS,” GRANDMA PEARL SAID AS SHE HELD HER door open for Janae, Calvin, and Roger. “She's prettier in person, Calvin, than on TV.”

Calvin nodded.

Janae smiled, feeling slightly intimidated by the older woman's commanding presence. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Call me Grandma Pearl. You, too,” she said, looking at Roger.

With a big toothy grin, Roger said, “A woman after my own heart.” He extended his hand. “I am Roger Whitford. I work with your grandson.”

Grandma Pearl shook Roger's hand and then tucked her arm under Janae's. She led Janae further into her home. “You're the young lady who's been taking up so much of Calvin's time lately.”

Janae's body stiffened.

Grandma Pearl patted Janae's hand to reassure her. “I haven't seen Calvin this passionate about anything. Thank you.” She squeezed Janae's hand. “I knew that by Calvin working on your son's case he would rediscover a side of himself that would change his life. It's wonderful. Just the other day he called an old, dear friend of his whom he hadn't talk to in years. He just seems . . . happier.”

“Grandma, you don't have to tell
everything
,” Calvin said.

“Oh, hush, boy. I haven't lied about anything, have I? How's that son of yours?” Grandma Pearl asked Janae.

“That's why we're here, Grandma,” Calvin answered. “We had a huge victory in court today. I wanted you to share in the good news with us.”

“I love good news.” Grandma Pearl smiled, looking from Calvin to Janae. “Well, come on, tell me all about it.”

 

TODAY A JUVENILE COURT JUDGE REFUSED TO WAIVE A MURDER ONE SUSPECT
to adult court on the grounds that the teenage defendant is black.

The judge's controversial ruling fuels the much-publicized debate between the defense and the DA's office on whether the high incarceration rate of young black males is inextricably linked to their race. Judge McCormick said as much today when he accused his colleagues of being a major part of the problem. Here'
s Judge John McCormick addressing the media after the hearing:

“Over the years I have prided myself on speaking out against the glaring injustice in the judicial system. But before today, I have never altered a decision because of it. I have been no better than my colleagues who have turned a blind eye to the racial disparities in the justice system and are quick to justify the impact of their rulings with the usual responses—‘No one makes them commit crime,' they say. ‘They have just as much opportunity as anyone else. You do the crime, you do the time.' But what about the crimes against humanity we as judges and officers of the court have committed in the name of justice? Our rulings have been laced with bias. No more. It starts with me today.”

We'
ve spoken to Attorney Roger Whitford for his reaction to Judge McCormick's decision.

Roger's face loomed large on the screen. Watching himself on the TV in Grandma Pearl's living room, Roger couldn't help but grin.

Janae, smiling herself, nudged him on the shoulder with a loose fist. And he playfully toppled over into Calvin.

“It is about time that someone within the system has come out on the side of justice. I applaud Judge McCormick for doing the right thing. Now, if we can only get his colleagues to follow suit. There is a huge problem within our criminal justice system. But if you ask any of the judges here in Pennsylvania, or across the country, whether they are unfair, even racist, toward a certain group of kids, they would emphatically say no. But statistics do not lie. Black boys are being herded into criminal court, and the result is them serving hard time
, with hardened criminals. The stereotypes are pervasive and embedded. This is how it happens. When a white judge is face-to-face with a black boy, he simply cannot relate. There is no point of connection, and that makes it
damn sure easy to lock him up for his own good. Judge McCormick faced his demons today, and it is about time they all did. We
're not stopping here. The legislature at both the state and federal levels must get involved. Oh, and by the way, we have a meeting scheduled with Congressman Butler. We plan on continuing this fight until the stats change.”

There were many responses to Judge McCormick's decision, and they
did seem to be divided along racial lines. Betsy Slader, a sixty-one-
year-old white woman from Bensalem, Pennsylvania,
says, “That judge made the wrong decision, and it's unfair to people like me. I'm scared of them thugs. They should be locked up for the crimes they've committed. No freebies.” Joseph Collins, a thirty-seven-year-old black man from North Philadelphia
says, “It
's about time that someone finally admits to what they are doing to us. When black people say something about it, we are accused of being too sensitive, playing the race card, paranoid, unable to let go of the past. You start to think you're crazy because you know something is not right but you can't quite put your finger on it. I appreciate that judge, and I damn sure appreciate that attorney.”

Calvin hit the off button on the remote and looked at his grandmother.

Gratified, Grandma Pearl teared up. “The fight continues.”

“This is not just local,” Calvin said. “It's spreading all over the country. You turn on CNN, Fox News, you name it—it's everywhere. The blogs are having a field day with that clip. Some are calling for the judge's resignation, and others are calling him a saint. And there are caricatures of us—all of us—already.”

“Good, good, good!” Roger retorted. “No, really, this is good stuff. The more people are talking about this, the greater our chances of causing real change.”

“Do you really have a scheduled meeting with Congressman Butler?” Calvin asked with his eyes cocked.

“Well, I didn't. But I do now. He called me personally himself. Not his assistant.” Roger smacked his hands together, creating a thunderous sound in the small house. “Start packing your bags, because we are headed to Washington.”

“How soon?”

He flashed the peace sign with his right hand. “Two days. Congressman Butler sees what we see,” Roger said. “He sees the system being burst wide-open. This is not something that is going to die down. I'll make sure of that. What the judge did today was a gift. I could not have scripted it better myself. Oh, before I forget, I got a call from
Time
magazine. They want me to do an article. Do you know how many people read
Time
? Twenty-five million!”

“Roger, I need to talk to you about Jonathan King.”

“I already know, I already know. And I agree. The CPHR must take on his case, too. That is absolutely the right next move. Have Margaret contact the mother.”

Calvin nodded. “I'm on it.”

“Did you see this?” Janae said seated at Grandma Pearl's dining room table, Calvin's laptop open in front of her. “Look what they did to Malik's face.” Her son's skin was actually black with a fuzz of hair all over it. There were whiskers sprouting from the upper-outer edges of his inflated lips, and the caption underneath read: “The New Endangered Species: Gang Bangers.” “Can they
do
this? Can they just
lie
like this?”

Roger waved off her concern. “You have to take the good with the bad.”

Janae shook her head, then quickly returned to the keyboard. “I wonder if you will feel the same when you see this.” The snapshot of Roger was taken right after the hearing. Calvin was to his left and Janae to his right. Loretta, Tameka, and Kim were just footsteps behind them. The caption read: “Nigger Lover.”

Roger hovered over Janae's shoulder to read the small font under the picture. “Oh, that's not a big deal. I've been getting that all my life. I married my wife straight out of high school in the early sixties. We were high school sweethearts.”

“Now, what in the world does that have to do with anything?” Calvin asked.

“My wife is black.”

“No!” Janae blurted, completely shocked.

“Yeah, she is. She's light but she is definitely black. Else all that torture we endured in the South, when dating interracially was like committing a cardinal sin, would have been wasted bigotry. We had some really close calls. My life was threatened. I was beaten a couple of times. Eventually, when she became pregnant with our first child we decided to get outta Dodge. We came north.”

“Wow. I would have never . . .” Janae's words trailed off. Then she smiled. “So you have jungle fever?” she teased.

Calvin cringed at her poor attempt at humor.

She cleared her throat, scrambling for words. “Seriously, I mean, now I understand why this matters to you so much.”

“Janae, I sure hope that this would matter to me regardless of my wife's skin color. A need for justice has no color.”