Is The Idaho Stop A Racial Justice Issue?

In previous posts, I have advocated "Idaho Stop," which allows cyclists to roll through stop signs at empty intersections and to treat stoplights as "stop" signs.  As the name indicates, it was first codified into law in The Gem State--in 1982. Despite proof that it does more than almost anything else to promote cycling safety--after all, an intersection is the most dangerous place for a cyclist--it's been slow to spread to other jurisdictions. 

Now, Colorado might be ready to join them.  A few cities and towns within the Centennial State have already legalized it, or modified versions of it.  But a bill that would allow the "Idaho Stop" statewide is about to go to Governor Jared Polis' desk, having passed both the state's House and Senate.  A spokesman for the Governor did not say whether or not he'll sign it.

Massimo Alpian hopes he does.  A lifelong cyclist, he surely understands how such a law will help to make cycling safer by reducing the risk of, say, being clipped by a right-turning vehicle in front of him.  But the also believes the "Idaho stop" could be a racial justice issue.

Photo by Hart Van Denberg, from CPR News

Years ago, he recalls, he was riding blazing down a road near Boulder.  Three cyclists in front of him shot through a "Stop" sign.  He followed, "right around the same speed," he says.  Then "I was pulled over and ticketed," he recounts.

Now, some might say that as officers in such situations are wont to do, they went after the "low hanging fruit," i.e., the last cyclist in a line.  But Alpian, all of these years later, still wonder whether something else was at play.  You see, he is the son of immigrants from Latin America and the Middle East.  The three cyclists in front of him were Caucasian.  

I get the impression that his diplomacy skills are better than mine.  He says he was "confused" as to why he was targeted. "If I was doing something blatantly egregious, sure, I'd feel bad that maybe I was breaking the law or putting other folks at risk."  But what he did would have been perfectly legal under an "Idaho Stop" regulation and, law or no law, put nobody at risk.  So, it's hard to blame him for harboring any thought that he was stopped because of his brown skin.

That, he says, is one reason why he wants Governor Polis to sign the bill into law.

I wonder whether the cops who stopped him went on to become Senators from Texas and Tennessee.

The Law, In All Of Its Majestic Equality

In Le Lys Rouge (The Red Lily), Anatole France wrote, "La loi, dans un grand souci d'egalite, interdit aux riches comme aux pauvres de coucher sous les ponts, de mendier dans les rues et de voler du pain."  The law, he says, in all of its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor from sleeping under bridges, begging on the streets and stealing bread.

Inspector Javert, who pursues Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, could have uttered that--without irony or sarcasm.  France, though, meant it as an indictment of folks like Javert and what they represent:  They might pursue justice "blindly," but the wrath of it falls more on the poor and otherwise vulnerable and marginalized:  Not only are we less able to defend ourselves if we're stopped, arrested or charged; we are more likely to be arrested and charged--or simply stopped and questioned--whether or not we committed any offense.

(Trust me, I know from whence I speak.*)

Moreover, those stops and arrests do little to nothing to enhance public safety and do little to nothing besides undermining people's trust in the police and the criminal justice system.  

The previous paragraph isn't my opinion, or that of a public defender or judge in the Bronx.  Rather, it's a paraphrase of the rationale a State Attorney in Hillsborough County--at the western end of Florida's I-4 corridor, politically one of this country's quintessential "swing" areas--gave for a new policy.

Six weeks ago, Andrew Warren issued a memo sent a memo saying that it's no longer appropriate to prosecute someone stopped on a bike if their only offense is that they resisted an officer without violence.  In that memo, he noted that while Black defendants make up a third of misdemeanor cases in the county, which includes Tampa, they represent 49 percent of all "resisting without violence" arrests.  And more than 70 percent of such cases that resulted from a bike or pedestrian stop had Black defendants--even though roughly one in five county residents is Black.

These findings did not surprise Black residents of the area, especially in light of a 2015 report documenting that Tampa police stopped disproportionate numbers of cyclists, 80 percent of whom were Black.  Those numbers were so egregious they drew the ire of the Department of Justice and helped to popularize the lament, "Bicycling While Black."

Warren's memo became the basis for his declaration that it is no longer appropriate to prosecute those stopped on bikes if their only charge is resisting an officer without violence, and as long as the "stop" is not related to some other, more serious, offense. While the number of affected cases, he admits, is small (about 40 or so per year), it will not tie up police time and other resources that could be deployed against crimes that are true threats to pubic safety, but also make, if in a small way, the criminal justice system fairer by not burdening poor and Black cyclists, most of whom are young, with criminal records for minor offenses.   

After all, the law, in all of its majestic equality, not only allows the poor as well as the rich, Black as well as White, and female as well as male (or genderqueer) to cycle or simply go about their business.  At least, it should. 

*--More than once, I have been stopped by police officers who had absolutely no reason to do so.  Once, in Lido Beach, Nassau County, the officer claimed I was "riding between cars'--where in the books such a law is embedded, I don't know--when, in fact, I was riding on the shoulder of the road, to the right of the two lanes of traffic.

Cycling While Black, I Mean, Without A License

You've probably seen them:  groups of kids, almost always boys, weaving their bikes in and out of traffic lanes, veering across center lines and riding as close as they can to oncoming cars.  Sometimes, they're popping wheelies as they're zigging and zagging along the pavement.

When I see such groups, if I can catch the gaze of one of their members, I might yell, "Be careful, OK" or simply give them what I believe is a concerned but nonjudgmental look.  Kids need to be kids and, truth be told, I did more than a few stupid and dangerous things.  But I want them to be able to look back and reflect on, well, the stupid and dangerous things they got away with doing.

If cops are going to deal with them, they should stop to the kids and talk to them.  They might continue what they were doing as soon as the cops are out of sight, but I think the cops should at least make them think.  Ticketing--or, worse, arresting--them on bogus charges probably will accomplish nothing more than to make them more distrustful of authority, and defiant, than they already are.

Especially if the charge is one that has never been levied in the history of the kids' community.  

That is what happened last week in Perth Amboy, New Jersey--a city connected to Staten Island, New York by the Outerbridge Crossing.  I occasionally ride through it as I'm pedaling to other parts of New Jersey and I rode in and through it fairly often when I was a student at Rutgers.

Then, the majority of Perth Amboy residents were poor or working-class Hispanics, and there was a sizable Black community.  In that sense, it hasn't changed, save for which Hispanic and Black people live there.  Also not changed is the relationship between the people and the ones who police them.

An already high tension level has ratcheted up during the past year, in the wake of George Floyd's murder and other crimes and misdeeds by police officers against non-white people.  Things could have reached a breaking point--and might, still--after videos surfaced of the police confiscating the bikes and handcuffing one of the boys--who happens to be African American.

The charge--riding while black, I mean, without a bicycle license. I'd love to know when was the last time, before last week, that law was enforced.

 

Cyclist Struck By Hate

It’s one thing when a motorist strikes a cyclist accidentally.

It’s something else when done with intention.

But I’ve heard of few things more despicable than this:



The driver not only drove into a Black Lives Matter protester on a bicycle intentionally; she made a point of expressing her hate.

The latest report says the cyclist’s injuries are not life-threatening. But he may have emotional scars that will take a long time to heal, if they ever do.

I am no lawyer, but I reckon that the woman should be charged, at the very least, with assault with a deadly weapon.

She's 14. And She's Black. That Can Only Mean....

Mary Barton found herself lying on the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

She rode her bike on someone's property. Or so the owner of said property said.  Said property owner called the police.  Two officers showed up.  One of them told her she could leave, but the second officer told her to stop.

Officer #2 claimed the bike was stolen and demanded identification.  She said she didn't have to produce it  (Apparently, she was paying attention in her civics class!) and, furthermore, the bike is hers and she's had it since December.  Then the cop pulled out his pepper spray and told her to call her mom. 

Mary Burton is 14 years old.  If you haven't already watched the video, you might have guessed that she's black.  Oh, and she's in North Little Rock, Arkansas.

Her brother, a year older, rushes to her aid and both are up against the police car.  Mary fell to the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

Well, I guess those cops at least believe in gender equality:  Usually, it's the guys who get stopped for riding a bicycle (or driving) while black.  

He Was Stopped For....

Lots of people claim to have been in Northern California bin the 1970's, when Keith Bontrager, Gary Fisher, Joe Breeze and other mountain bike pioneers were barreling down fire trails in Marin and Sonoma County.

I wasn't there, so I'm not going to try to settle the question of who "invented" mountain bikes or mountain biking.  But as with anything in which the earliest developments weren't--and probably couldn't have been--documented, a lot of legends and folklore have arisen.

From a couple of people who probably were there, I've heard that some folks who bought some of the early mountain bikes that were made for the purpose (as opposed to the DIY machines Bontrager, Fisher, Breeze and their peers fashioned from salvaged baloon-tired bombers) used their rigs to transport what was often called "California's biggest cash crop".  And they weren't talking about wine grapes or almonds.

Of course, that cash crop is now essentially legal in the Golden State and in other places.  That, like the end of Prohibition, has put smugglers and bootleggers out of business.  But, as in most places, there are other substances that aren't legal. And there is a demand for those substances, which means that some folks will try to make a living by transporting them.

(Disclosure:  When I was a bike messenger, I found myself making repeat trips to questionable locations with small envelopes and packages.  I didn't ask or tell.)

And, yes, some will transport them by bicycle. That, apparently, is what Terrent Dowdell was trying to do.  Now, the police claim they stopped him for not having "a reflective light" on the front of his bicycle.  I also couldn't help but to notice that Mr. Dowdell is, well, black--in Columbus, Georgia.

Whatever the constables' motivation, they found "drug related items" and arrested him for possession of marijuana and heroin "with intent to distribute."  

Bicycling While Black In The Windy City

Two decades ago, I was living on Bergen Street, on the northern side of Park Slope, Brooklyn.  I was midway between Fifth Avenue, then one of the area's main shopping strips, and Flatbush Avenue, one of Brooklyn's main throughfares. 

The latter street was often called, in a grim joke,  "The Mason-Dixon Line."  The difference between the two sides of the Aveune was literally black and white.  I ended up on the white side.  Some time after I moved there, I realized that all of the apartments the agent with whom I'd dealt showed me were on the side of Flatbush where I lived.  

The local precinct house was just on the other side.  I often heard stories about how differently each side was policed.   It was during that time I heard an expression that may be familiar to you: Driving While Black, or DWB for short.

Of course, the phenomenon was not limited to that neighoborhood--or, for that matter, to any particular American city, or to the US.  It's also not surprising to realize that there's a two-wheeled equivalent:  BWB, or Biking While Black.

From phmelody.com

Yesterday, an article by Chicago Tribune reporter Mary Wisniewski revealed that of the ten community areas with the most bike tickets from 2008 to September 2016, not a single one has a white majority of residents.  Seven of those neighborhoods have an African-American majority, while Latinos are the majority in the other three.

What must be most galling, particularly to Black and Hispanic cyclists in the Windy City, is that the neighborhoods with the greatest numbers of cyclists are mainly-white enclaves such as West Town and Lincoln Park, whose cyclists didn't come anywhere to getting as many summonses as those in such communities as Austin and North Lawndale.


But African-American cyclists are bearing the greatest burden of constabular harassment, according to Wisniewski.
"As Chicago police ramp up their ticketing of cyclists," she writes,  "more than twice as many citations are being written in African-American communities than in white or Latino areas."

Some law enforcement officers and commanders repeat an argument I have heard before and is condescending or simply insulting, depending on your point of view.  In essence, they say people in low income (which usually means African or Hispanic) communities are less educated and therefore more ignorant of the rules of the road.  But others, including cycling advocates, point out there are simply more cops on the streets because of their higher crime rates, so there are more opportunities to stop cyclists in such neighborhoods.

Whatever the explanation, such tactics can only worsen relations between the police and non-white residents in a city where, by many accounts, such relations are worse than in most other cities.

And don't get me started on relations between cops and cyclists--or trans women!