Over a morning cup of coffee at Miss Shirley’s, a prominent city cafe located near the immense harbour, Debbie Hines shares her experiences of two distinct periods in Baltimore’s history. Although the initial establishment of the cafe is situated deeper within the city, this offshoot of Miss Shirley’s has emerged along with the restored waterfront.
Hines reminisces about growing up in Baltimore and the city’s subsequent transformation due to the crack cocaine crisis in the 1970s. She laments that the image that most people associate with Baltimore is from this devastating era, during which the only action taken was to incarcerate the affected individuals.
The on-screen depiction of Baltimore’s grim reality in the widely-viewed series, The Wire, has etched an infamous image of the city into the minds of viewers worldwide. As a Baltimore native who spent her formative years there in the ’70s, Hines expresses her annoyance at not having seen the show, which has become a predictable conversation topic whenever she reveals her hometown.
Hines’ own experiences with crime and the justice system came from her tenure as a state prosecutor, contributing to her understanding of the city’s glaring inequality. Her encounters from that period have had a lasting impact on her. Now a private practitioner in Washington, she used the lockdown period to expose the flaws in America’s legal system in her book, ‘Get Off My Neck’. Her work provides a well-researched, lucid, and stark exposé of a legal system designed to continue oppressing black Americans.
Hines categorizes the justice system as a “numbers game” heavily influenced by racial disparity and financially motivated. She comments on the massive expenditure involved in incarcerating a large number of people, arguing that this is deliberate. While this practice might be subconscious on an individual level, it is a conscious strategy on a systemic level. This, she claims, dates back centuries in the US and is akin to a continuation of slavery — a point she illustrates by comparing the present system to laws that were enacted following the Emancipation Proclamation and that, to this day, serve to arrest and imprison citizens.
The present events, according to some, bear a stark similarity to the era of slavery, a claim that many might find difficult to accept. However, reality paints a different picture. It’s hard to not draw parallels between slavery and the sight of skinny nine or 10-year-old children being brought into the court in chains. These practices trace their roots back to days predating even Jim Crow; a period widely considered as ‘slavery 2.0.’
Hines lays out the facts, which speak volumes about the reality. As an illustration, if 17 white boys were born in 2001, only one could expect to end up in prison during their lifespan. However, for black boys born in the same year, this figure jumps to one in every three. Even though black individuals constitute only 13% of the population, they represent 43% of those lingering in jail awaiting trial. The discrepancy in black and white arrests is alarmingly high, with a ratio of 10:1. A worrying 44% of individuals on death row since 1976 have been black, while blacks are three times more likely to be killed by police compared to whites.
There are numerous examples to strengthen her contention, like the case of Fair Wayne Bryant from Louisiana, who had been convicted previously for three thefts and one robbery, which made him a candidate for the habitual offender status. Bryant was imprisoned for life without the chance of parole for stealing hedge clippers but was freed after 23 years owing to a state supreme court appeal. There’s also the tale of Allen Bullock from Baltimore, an acquaintance of Freddie Gray who died in police custody due to a fractured neck. Bullock was captured on camera on top of a police car during protests that resonated across America.
It crushes my heart to recount this; the incident took place in close vicinity to City Hall.
Following the exposure of his photo in local dailies, Bullock, on his parents’ advice, handed himself over to the police. Hines had anticipated a charge of malicious property destruction. Contrary to her expectations, Bullock was indicted with eight counts of rioting and given a 12-year prison sentence after being held on bail.
[Derek Chauvin pleads guilty to violating George Floyd’s civil rights.]
In July of 2016, an unfortunate incident unfolded in a Minneapolis suburb, where Philando Castile, journeying in his car along with his girlfriend and her young daughter, were pulled over due to a malfunctioning rear light. As Castile communicated to the officer his licensed possession of a firearm, he was suddenly struck with seven bullets. The subsequent court proceedings acquitted the officer involved. This story, backed by data, underscores the shocking reality of the oppressive system black people confront daily.
Hines believes that the roots of such oppression lies in the historical institution of slavery where the perceived value of black people stood at zero. With the progression of time, a baseless perception casting black men as dangerous emerged. Instances where law enforcement officials dehumanise black women and men, viewing them as violent threats are not uncommon. Couple this with officers harbouring white supremacist ideals, and you have a potent mix that breeds racism.
The book she penned is an ode to her mother, whom she defines as one of the most intelligent people she’s known. Hailing from North Carolina and Georgia, her parents had a humble upbringing. Her mother had a difficult childhood, brought up by her sharecropping aunt and uncle who were both ninth grade educated. Higher studies required payment which was unaffordable, sending her mother onto a similar path of sharecropping as well. She never tagged herself as a sharecropper, describing rather than labelling her experiences. It was only after her demise that her son explained her life epitomising the essence of a sharecropper – she left education for field work, picking cotton.
Hines witnessed her mother’s transition from a domestic help to engaging in community activism, progressing to a position at the city health department, and eventually advocating for health reform. Post her retirement, she dedicated her time voluntarily to her union, even accompanying Nancy Pelosi to congress to champion change. Unfortunately, she missed the enactment of the Affordable Care Act in 2006, an event she worked tirelessly towards.
Hines’ book “American Whitelash: America’s racist past, still so much part of its present, cannot be easily erased” is a testament to these struggles.
Hines, an intelligent and ambitious woman, has recollections of growing up in a neighbourhood in Baltimore initially populated by both African American and Jewish communities, which over time, became predominantly African American. She expresses her vivid experiences of living within two social spheres, having her own world – her community, her church, and getting a peek into the Jewish world by attending events such as bar mitzvahs, birthday parties and sleepovers. However, she noticed a stark contrast as those from the Jewish neighborhood seldom ventured into hers, a pattern she recognises even today. There are few instances of white individuals immersing in her world, she observes.
Hines recollects her collegiate visits back home, which revealed the significant degradation of entire regions within her residential area, an aftermath of the crack cocaine crisis. The widespread addiction led to a surge in the incarceration rates which in turn negatively impacted the upkeep of houses, she describes.
Hines points to 2020 and the incident involving George Floyd as a moment when people clearly recognised the inherent flaws in the system, albeit their memory of it may be fleeting. Recent happenings in Baltimore made global news when the Francis Key Bridge was devastatingly demolished, a catastrophic event that will take years for the city to recover from. Yet, walking past City Hall towards the station under the radiant sun, the resilience of the city is evident as downtown has made substantial progress over the years.
Hines, a congenial and proud guide, is thrilled to see the survival of certain restaurants and bars that existed during her tenure as a prosecutor. Her assertion is that the experiences she bore witness to in Baltimore are prevalent across America. She also contends that the intimidation black communities face from law enforcement officials is a universal concern, irrespective of their social standing.
During the current health crisis, she made a regular practice of driving to a branch of Dunkin’ Donuts just to enjoy a coffee in her vehicle as she observed life passing her by. On a particular occasion, she found herself alone in the parking area. “Suddenly, a police vehicle positioned itself behind me. It just sat there. Naturally, I felt uneasy. I was merely sipping my coffee, yet I was black. Upon seeing the police car eventually drive past, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I don’t believe white individuals experience this kind of apprehension. I’ve even had threats of arrest. It’s not only lower-income black individuals that face this issue. Prominent figures like Harvard’s Henry Louis Gates have had similar encounters – being arrested whilst trying to enter his own home, unable to convince the police he lived there. Therefore, I refrain from discussing class.”
Nonetheless, she is hopeful for the future prospects of the legal system and anticipates her book will aid in progressing the conversation.
“I predict it will be well-received. The claims presented are substantiated by facts, rather than personal opinion. Furthermore, the events of 2020 and the George Floyd incident served as an awakening moment for many who had previously watched from the sidelines, recognising the systemic issue at hand. But people tend to forget quickly. We have a duty to recall these events and inspire subsequent changes for anyone invested in justice.”
Her book, “Get Off My Neck: Black Lives, White Justice and a Former Prosecutor’s Quest for Reform” is available from MIT Press.