At the County Jail and White Privilege

At the County Jail and White Privilege

I am currently involved in a class entitled “Conversations Around Race” and also in a group engaged in conversations about race. As a result I have been thinking about my “white privilege” and have been looking back at my life in this context. I have been recalling past experiences, examining how I have benefited from “white privilege” as well as recognizing my own culpability. I have thought about a number of past experiences in which I can now see that I was the recipient of “white privilege”. In some of these I was aware of my white privilege but in many others I was not. Below is an incident I thought about. It is a rather small thing but it also happens to be an incident where I knew being white was an advantage at the time it happened.

In the fall of 1978. I was working at General Business Systems (GBS). One of my first assignments was to make software modifications to a GBS developed offender/prisoner tracking system for the the Alameda County Jail (may have been the city jail, not sure but it was an Alameda facility). I drove over to conform the specifications and further discuss and define the desired changes. While I was there they offered to let me do the changes on their system at the jail. I took them up on it. It was almost always easier and more efficient to work at the client's site. For one, I wouldn't be getting phone calls from other clients to distract me from my work. For two, I could get their immediate feedback. A third benefit was at the client location I could have exclusive use of their computer for most of the day, whereas back at the office I had to share our 4 single use computers with 7 other programmers.

The administrative office, where the computer was, was inside the Alameda facility. There were quite a few inmates, hundreds. Some of the prisoners had permission to leave during the day to go to work and some worked right there at the jail. Offenders seemed to be free to move around as needed or desired and as a result when I had to use the Men's Room it was not uncommon to pass by one of the inmates along the way.

When it came time for lunch the two women in the office gave me a ticket and said the county would buy me lunch and I should follow them to the prison cafeteria. The room was filled with inmates eating and of course the servers and cooks were inmates as well. The girls took there food back to their desks. Being a male facility, women were not supposed to eat in the cafeteria with the male inmates so they left me, by myself, to eat with the inmates. The majority of the inmates were people of color, or at least that's how I remember it. The girls told me not to worry as there would not be any problems. So I found an open seat at a table with a couple inmates. A couple more inmates soon joined us. I was uncomfortable at first. I thought these guys are going to hate sitting with me since I have the freedom to leave at any point. Plus I'm a white guy so they probably hate me just for that. I mean us white people have suppressed and taken advantage of people of color for 400 years how could they want to be around a strange new white guy? My fears were calmed as they were reasonably friendly. There was not a lot of talk, but there was enough light friendly conversation so it didn't feel completely weird, and as promised there was not an incident. I have to admit I felt a bit more relaxed once I was done and returned to the admin office. I would end up eating with the inmates every time I was there and although I did get more comfortable doing it, I never really totally relaxed.

I still had my same Toyota pickup truck that I had while I was a college student in Eugene, Oregon. On that first visit I was lucky and found a parking space right in front of the jail. Now, a little background. While living in Eugene I never locked my truck and I also kept my keys under the seat on the driver's side. Many of my friends at Oregon did not have a vehicle and at times would ask to borrow mine. I got tired of having to go home to meet them at my place to give them the keys. So to solve the problem I started keeping them under seat. Now I'm living in SF. It's a much different situation. I locked my truck all the time. The problem was I had a multi year habit of putting my keys under the driver's seat after removing them from the ignition. I just did it without thinking with the result being I was now frequently locking myself out of my vehicle. So, I started keeping a coat hanger in the back bed of my truck to unlock it and I got quite proficient at doing it.

So at the end of the day I come out from the jail and walk over to my truck. I reach into my pocket for my keys and realize I have done it again. I look up and there are two police officers standing right in front of the jail, just to my left. Trying to be cool, I look at them and nod but they just look at me. What should I do? I decided to just go ahead and grab the coat hanger. I then brake into my own truck right in front of them. Now I will add that I did it quickly, but still being proficient at breaking into a vehicle is probably not a strong argument for innocence. However, neither of the officers come towards me or say anything so I jump in grab my keys from below the seat and make my getaway.

 My Toyota Pickup Truck

I can't help but think that if I was a person of color (POC) I would have been at least questioned and maybe even cuffed and carted off to jail, which happened to be conveniently close. This surely is not the only time I've been engaged in what could be viewed as a suspicious activity where no one questioned me, but might have been if I was a POC. Not that I can recall them but there have probably been 100's of instances where authorities left me alone because I am white.

I acknowledge that I have lived a life of white privilege. I have been given advantages over others all my life and I've been mostly oblivious to it. So much so, that I not only do not notice it, but I have freely accepted it. That is a symptom of the problem as there is a problem. We all are the problem and hence I am the problem.