Biking While Black

I read Huey Newton's Revolutionary Suicide many years ago.  As I recall, it recounts, among other things, his and his peers' often-tense interactions with the police of his native Oakland.  Many of the incidents would today be called Driving (or Walking, Barbecuing, Reading or Fill-in-the-Activity of Your Choice) While Black.

Frustration over such incidents inspired him and his friends to start the Black Panther Party.   Whether or not you agree with his way of dealing with the poverty, racism and violence that defined life on the mean streets where he grew up, it's hard to argue against his observations and analysis.  After all, so much of what he described could have happened yesterday.

As a matter of fact, it did--or, two weeks ago, anyway.  On 3 August, Najari "Naj" Smith was leading a group of 40 young cyclists through the streets of Oakland on a regularly-scheduled First Friday ride.  You guessed it:  He and most of those cyclists are black.  

They all belong to organizations that consist mainly of African-American members.  One of those organizations, Rich City Rides, was founded and is led by "Naj" himself in the nearby city of Richmond.  RCR teaches young people bicycle mechanics and gives them opportunities to work for their own bicycles.  It also offers guidance on healthy lifestyles and positive social interactions through group rides, public path maintenance and civic advocacy on transportation issues.  

It should be noted here that Richmond today, in many ways, parallels the Oakland of Huey Newton:  It is darker (in skin tone) and poorer than surrounding Bay Area communities.  It also, until recently, had one of the highest violent crime rates in the nation, and many residents feel they are always "under suspicion" by the police.  Oakland, on the other hand, is quickly gentrifying as even well-paid professionals find themselves priced out of San Francisco and other communities on the west side of the Bay.  This has exacerbated tensions between the remaining African-Americans and the Oakland Police Department (which disproportionately stops and arrests African-Americans) not to mention the white gentrifiers who too often call the police when black people simply live their lives in public.

Najari "Naj" Smith

Such was the case two weeks ago, when someone apparently complained about Naj and the other riders when they formed a "bonding and healing circle".  A police officer broke into it without warning and grabbed Naj's handlebars.  

The officer explained that Naj was being detained for "excessive noise" coming from a stereo on a trailer behind his bike.  Smith says he immediately complied with the officer's request and turned off the stereo.  The officer told him to "stay put" and momentarily walked away.  Smith thought the officer was going to write him a citation.  Instead, the cop handcuffed him, confiscated his bicycle and stereo equipment and whisked him off to the Santa Rita Jail, where he spent the weekend.   Smith made his $5000 bail and has  a court date for the 31st of this month.


"I cooperated with the officer as much as possible," Smith said. Members of the group were upset and he was "trying to put the best example forward" so the incident "wouldn't turn into a mess."

It seems, though, that no amount of compliance is any match for police officers who make up the rules as they go along.  According to Oakland PD spokesperson Felicia Aisthorpe, Smith was detained for "interfering with traffic and playing music too loudly."  Moreover, she said, he did not have proper identification. (Italics mine.)

The officer who stopped me in Harrison two years ago was looking to make the same charge against me.  As it happened, I had my New York State non-drivers' ID with me.  He tried to claim that he could arrest me for not having "official" ID; I countered that the document was issued by the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles and is therefore official.  He wasn't too pleased with that; so he wrote a citation with the largest fine he could get away with.  

Since then, I've checked with a number of reputable sources, all of whom confirmed what I'd already known:  that there is no law in New York State (Harrison is in Westchester County) or anywhere in the US that requires people to carry ID or to show it to police officers. But I carry mine with me anyway for situations like the one I've described.

Whether or not "Naj" Smith had his ID on him or needed it probably isn't the real issue, as far as Ms. Aisthorpe and the arresting officer are concerned.  He is from Richmond and he was in Oakland, cycling while black.  

Off The Island With Them!

Yesterday I wrote about cops who break the law--specifically, one that forbids cycling on the sidewalks of Denver.  I also mentioned that those same officers routinely overlook violations of said statute.

Now, to balance things out, I'm going to write about two constables who broke a law pertaining to cycling--with less reason than their peers in the Mile High City--and were arrested for it.

Actually, the law isn't about bicycles specifically.  But, given its locale, it has special resonance for cyclists and makes the policemen's offence all the more egregious.

Lt. Andrew Longuski and Detective Sgt. Derrick Jordan work in the Polygraph Section of of the Michigan State Police's Biometrics and Identification Division.  Now, if any two officers know about your chances of getting busted if you commit a crime, I would expect them to be the ones.

They were attending a training conference on the Great Lake State's Upper Peninsula when they decided to go for a joyride on Mackinac Island.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, motorized vehicles are not allowed on the island, so people usually get around on foot or by bicycle.  And some of those bikes are tandems.  Thus, two guys on a bike built for one would--and, in their case, did--attract attention.

That, and the fact that the bike had a pink seat.  Longuski pulled up to Jordan and offered to let him ride with him to a watering hole. 

Now, even though a couple of cops on a bike built for one raised a few eyebrows, it probably wouldn't have gotten them in trouble had the bike not belonged to either Longuski or Jordan.  


Apparently, the cops-turned-perps didn't realize that the offenses for which officers of the law cannot be indicted do not include taking a bike that is not one's own--especially in a place like Mackinac Island.  Oh, and immunity doesn't extend to Disorderly Conduct, a charge that most likely stemmed from their heated exchange between them and the Island's law enforcement officers.  

Both officers pleaded "not guilty" at their arraignments on 30 May and were released on bond.  They are due back in court in July and face up to 93 days in jail in addition to fines.

Hmm...This is an interesting "not guilty" plea from a couple of polygraph experts.  Perhaps the truth is subjective, after all.

When Toys R Us Didn't Deliver, This Officer Did

Chances are that if you are reading this blog, you didn't purchase your bike at Toys R Us.

But you may have bought one for a daughter, son, grandchild, niece, nephew or other child in your life.  You will not be judged--by me, anyway--if you did.  After all, most such bikes are ridden into the ground, sometimes literally.

Of course, buying anything from Toys R Us is a risky proposition these days, as the chain has declared bankruptcy and is closing its stores.  But I suppose there are bargains to be had, and if you can get one, the risk just might be worthwhile.

(I think I still have a membership card I received when I bought a gift--not a bike!-- for someone's kid or another.  I don't know whether it would actually do me any good now!)

Well, in any event, it seems that when the ship is sinking, some crew members throw their scruples overboard.  That, at least, seems to have been the case in a Temperance, Michigan store.

Toledo police officer Daniel Henderson gives new bike to Haylee McClellan Rowe

Hayley McClellan Rowe bought a bike for her 10-year-old daughter, Shelbie, last month.  As she relates on Facebook, the bike was damaged during assembly.  She returned it and purchased another bike, which was to be assembled by store employees. The receipts for the return of the first bicycle and the purchase of the second were stapled to the box in which the second bike arrived.

When she went to pick up the bike, however, employees could not locate the receipts and the bike was sold to another customer.  Neither the store's management nor the company's offices helped her, even after they were contacted by The Blade of nearby Toledo, Ohio.

Among that city's police officers is a fellow named Daniel Henderson.  He saw Ms. McClellan Rowe's Facebook posts and helped her--and daughter Shelbie--in a way the law couldn't.

He bought her a new bike.

Ms. McClellan Rowe said when she calls the police, she expects help "with the situation at hand."  She did not, however, "expect him to purchase a bike out of his own pocket."

Neither did Toledo Police Chief George Kral.  "Officer Henderson went above and beyond the call of duty for this family, for this little girl," he said.

No Escape In The Windy City

One of the great things about cycling, at least for me, is that it offers a way of escaping, if only temporarily, the stresses of daily life and the ills that afflict this world.

Perhaps I can say such a thing because I am white.  Nothing, it seems, can free Blacks and Hispanics--especially those who are young and male--from the yoke of lasso of racism, especially its noose of racial profiling.

No, not even cycling can free young people of color from those things.  If anything, riding a bike  might make them targets for cops on the hunt for tickets to meet their quotas.

At least, that's how things seem to work in Chicago.  Recently, the Tribune reported that 56 percent of all 2017  bike citations were issued in Black-majority neighborhoods, 24 percent in Latino/a-majority communities and only 18 percent in areas populated mainly by Whites.  That, in a city where the proportion of non-Hispanic Black and White people is almost exactly the same, at just over 32 percent for each race.  Hispanics make up 28 percent of the Windy City's population, but they are more dispersed than Blacks throughout the city, so it's fair to say that those who live in Latino/a-majority neighborhoods are bearing disproportionately ticketed.

This caricature of Major Taylor appeared in the 26 April 1894 issue of Cycling Life.

North Lawndale, where 89 percent of the residents are Black and relatively few cycle, got more bike tickets than any other Chicago neighborhood.  Lincoln Park--a neighborhood that is either "bike friendly" or the home of "Trixies" and "Chads", depending on your persepctive--got only five.  Yes, you read that right:  5, as many fingers as you have on your hand!  Oh, and Lincoln Park is  81 percent white.

Do They Teach That In The Academy?

If you head to Tampa from Daytona Beach, you will most likely pass through a city called Lakeland.  

I have to admit that I'd never heard of it until my parents moved to Florida.  Then it became a name on the weather map of the local television newscasts:  The temperature in Lakeland would be shown, along with those of Winter Haven, Titusville, Daytona Beach and a few other locales in the middle of the Sunshine State.

Since then, I've learned that the headquarters of Publix, one of the largest regional supermarket chains, is in Lakeland. (If you've spend any amount of time in Florida, you've almost certainly shopped in a Publix store.)  I have also learned another interesting fact about the city:  The canine unit of its local police department is regarded as one of the best in the United States.  One of its dogs, Nox, took first place in the annual USPCA Police Dog Trials (the largest event of its kind), while another one of its police pooches--Bruno--won the event in 2012 and 2013

Knowing about their canine unit got me to wondering how the police officers themselves are trained.  Something told me that their training must be pretty good . After all, studies have confirmed something I've always suspected:  Developing a rapport with an animal helps people in their relationships with other people.  Now, I realize that a police officer doesn't have the same sort of relationship with a German Shepherd in the unit as a civilian has with a pet poodle.  But I think that the ability to communicate with an animal requires intuition, which is certainly useful in human relations.

I got to thinking about those things when I came across a story about a police officer in Lakeland who helped a little girl fix her bicycle chain.  Items like that catch my eye, in part, because you would never see them in New York Metro Area media.  Also, according to the story, the girl calmed down from the temper tantrum she lapsed into when her bike chain jumped off its sprocket.  That's not a reaction one normally associates with seeing police lights flashing here in New York, especially if one is a member of a marginalized community.

I couldn't help but to wonder whether her reaction--and, for that matter, the fact that Shane Stinson stopped to help the girl--was a result of training, Officer Stinson's personal qualities or the community's relations with the police (which are probably a result of those other two factors), or some combination of them.

Whatever the answer, Officer Shane Stinson of the Lakeland, FL Police Department should be commended.

It also has me thinking about whether they should teach bicycle repair in police academies--and elementary schools!

Does The Driver Hate Cops--Or Cyclists?

Someone wasn't feeling the love in the City of Brotherly Love.

Around 2:30 yesterday morning, three Philadelphia police officers on bicycle arrived at the intersection of I Street and Erie Avenue to help with the arrest of a carjacker.

Suddenly, a black sedan--possibly a Nissan Altima--with tinted windows bore down, at high speed, a group of Philadelphia police officers on bicycle patrol.

Fortunately for the men in blue, they hopped off their bikes before the sedan tangled them into a mess of twisted spokes and sped off.

According to a Philly.com report, "Police said the driver's actions appeared to have been deliberate."  No! Really?  What I'd like to know is whether the driver of the sedan knew the carjacker, or simply had a grudge against cops--or cyclists.

A Day In Court---For....?

Which is worse:

• laws, policies and regulations that govern cyclists but are conceived and enacted by people who don't ride bikes, or
• enforcement of said laws, policies and regulations by people who don't cycle?

A few months ago, I was caught in a "perfect storm", if you will, between the two.

It was around noon on a warm, late-summer day.  The sun shone brightly in a clear sky.  That meant something unusual for that time of the year in this part of the world:  very little humidity, which is probably the reason why I felt the light wind wasn't slowing me down, even though I was pedaling into it.  

At that moment, I was about two thirds of the way from my apartment to Greenwich, Connecticut.  So, unless that wind changed direction (it wouldn't), I could look forward to it giving me a "boost" on my way home.  Most important, though--at least at that moment--I was feeling really, really good:  I was astride Arielle, my Mercian Audax, and each pedal stroke seemed to invigorate me.  

Somewhere along  Halstead Avenue, one of the major thoroughfares in the Westchester County town of Harrison, I noticed a police officer perched on a motorcycle.  Alfred Hitchcock once said that if you are going to show a gun on a mantel, it has to be used to shoot somebody at some point during the movie.  I actually remember thinking about that--why, I didn't know--when I saw that officer.  

A couple of minutes later, I came to the town's major intersection: where Halstead crosses Harrison Avenue, next to the railroad station.  I saw trucks and construction crews on the other side of Harrison; as I approached the intersection, I could hear more trucks rumbling behind me.  

(Here is a Google image of the intersection, without the construction crews.)

Focusing on the construction work and trucks ahead of me, and seeing that no traffic was crossing Halstead from either side of Harrison Avenue, I increased my speed through the intersection so I could stay ahead of the trucks I'd heard rumbling behind me. I figured that I would be safer if they saw me ahead of them:  Truck drivers, in my experience, tend to be more careful than most drivers and give the right of way as long as they see you.  Also, I thought that if I crossed the intersection ahead of those trucks and whatever other traffic might be approaching behind me, I could more safely navigate the construction zone.

You can probably guess what happened next:  The cop on the motorcycle zoomed up alongside me.  At first, I didn't think anything of it.  Then he yelled, "You, on the bike.  Pull over!"  

I did. In front of a funeral home.  

"Let me see your license."

"What's the problem, officer?"

"You went through that red light."

"I did?"

He then lectured me about how New York State law says that bicycles are, in effect, vehicles and are governed in the same way.  That meant I had to stop for the red light at an intersection.  "You know, if there had been cross traffic, it could have ended really badly."

"But, officer, there wasn't any."

"You're still supposed to obey traffic signals."

I tried to explain to him that doing so could've landed me underneath one of those trucks.  He was hearing none of it.  Instead, he ran my license through his computer.  He ordered me to step back as he read the screen and printed out the summons.

"Have you ever dealt with the police before?"

"No, sir."   

Then, sotto voce, he told me to mail in the summons with a not guilty plea and the pre-trial date would be set.

Well, that day was the other day.  I went to the Harrison court house and stood on a line with about three dozen other people who had traffic summonses of one kind or another.  A man at a desk called each of us by name.  He called mine, and said that he was going to do me a "favor" and, as a result, I wouldn't have points on my license or a record of any kind.  

I then realized he was the officer who pulled me over and wrote the summons.  "Go to the line on your right, Miss Valinotti," he ordered. "Have a good day."

While waiting on line, a few of us got to talking.  It seems that Harrison has a reputation for issuing lots of traffic tickets.  One person remarked that it's the town's second-biggest source of revenue, after property taxes.  He might not have been kidding.

(Maybe I'm not the first one to think the town should be re-named "Harassment" or "Harrass-son".)

Anyway...I should mention that the day I was pulled over was the last Saturday in August.  Although the officer who stopped me--or, for that matter, any other officer--would probably deny that there was a "quota" system in place, it's hard not to believe that I was stopped for any other reason.  

It was probably the easiest way for the town of Harrison, New York to get 175 dollars from someone who doesn't live there--and who might not ever pass through again.  

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!

"They Had Beauty But No Licenses"

I've heard that certain women are attracted to male authority figures.  All right, I take that back:  I've known a few women for whom such men exerted a pull.  That magnetism was all the stronger if said authority figure wore a uniform.

Now, of course, I don't mean to imply, let alone say, that such women represent the rest of us.  Like any other group within a larger group, they are of and among us, but they are not all--or, most likely, even most--of us.

But I think more people in my parents' and grandparents' generations--women as well as men--believed that all or most women had that desire, or even a need, for such men in their lives.  I am living in different times; also, I have enough experience with authority figures of both genders so as not to be overly awed by them.  Plus, I have an innate skepticism of authority and institutions--which may seem paradoxical when you realize that I have spent much of my working life as an educator and, as often as not, avoid conflict and change when they are on the horizon. Moreover, I lived the first four and a half decades of my life as male, which, I believe, has magnified my skepticism, sometimes to the point of cynicism.

Now, I don't mean to say that I am disrespectful--at least, not deliberately.  On the other hand, I rarely, if ever, "play up" to power, in part because I am not very good at it.  Certainly, I don't think I'd be--or even try to seem--as happy as the women in this photo:

According to The Denver Post, which published this photo:

They had beauty but no licenses, and so the young women shown here had to walk back from their bicycle ride.  Two police cars halted the cyclists at 2551 West 26th Avenue in Denver after they had received a complaint that the bicycles had no licenses.  The bikes were returned to a dealer in a truck.  Left to right are Doris Weeks, Virginia Huke, Clodagh Jones, Genevieve Strauss, Patrolmen H.W. Gibbs and L.R. Wigginton, Elouise Downer, Marietta Grange, Lois Hale and Rita Carlin.

That photo was taken and published in 1939.  I wonder whether any of those women are still alive and, if they are, whether I am dragging their reputations through the mud.  Really, I don't mean to!

I just can't get over how they're all smiling.  Were they coerced into it, or were they genuinely happy, or at least content, to get the attention of Men In Uniform.  (A few years later, in a Hollywood movie, I could see any one of them would fall into the arms of a soldier or sailor disembarking from the war.)  And, I wonder:  How did whoever tipped off the cops know that those young women were riding without licenses?  


It would take a far more serious offense for me to call the police on them, let alone take them into custody. I guess that's one reason why I never became a police officer!