My Call to Action
The first time I asked my parents about my elementary school’s namesake, Thurgood Marshall, and learned about his incredible life as a civil rights activist, lawyer, and the first African American Supreme Court Justice, I knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps.
Admittedly, at such a young age, I did not quite understand all the intricacies of his work and the gravity of his accomplishments. Nevertheless, I was instinctively compelled to follow his example.
I also embraced my elementary school’s motto that “character counts,” which included six pillars of good character: caring, fairness, trustworthiness, responsibility, citizenship, and respect. For me, these pillars, coupled with Marshall’s example, painted a clear picture of what it means to be a lawyer.
In fact, I had this idealistic notion that I was going to be a lawyer for 50 years and then the second African American Supreme Court Justice. I figured my appointment would be just as significant as Thurgood Marshall’s, if not more so, because I was a proud interracial boy who has benefited from Marshall’s legacy. I was going to validate his work. That was my unspoken, yet truly visceral dream, but little did I know Clarence Thomas already took my spot. Thanks a lot…
Humor aside, as I grew and learned, the sparkling veneer of lawyers and the criminal justice system slowly faded away. I did not like the ugly underbelly I discovered.
Angela J. Davis, a thought leader in criminal justice reform, emphasizes how African Americans have been disproportionately mistreated at virtually every stage of the system:
● Black boys are 9.3 times more likely to spend time in juvenile detention than white boys.
● 49 percent of Black men can expect to be arrested at least once by age twenty-three – a higher percentage than for Hispanic men and White men, respectively.
● Black men are 21 times more likely to be killed by police than White men.
● African Americans make up approximately 35 percent of the prison population in the United States.
● 1 in 3 Black men born in 2001 can expect to be incarcerated in his lifetime.
See generally Angela J. Davis, Policing the Black Man: Arrest, Prosecution, and Imprisonment (Policing the Black Man: Arrest, Prosecution, and Imprisonment (2018)).
Stories about people hurt or killed within the criminal justice system highlighted these troubling statistics. None of them were my family members, but I still felt every bit of angst, hurt, and disbelief when I heard Kalief Browder, Michael Brown, Breonna Taylor, Philando Castile, and many others’ stories on the news. Each of these instances is an unbearable tragedy. Yet, there is very little accountability for police killings. From 2013 to 2020, no charges were filed against police officers in 98.3% of cases of police killings.
These statistics and anecdotes reveal the failures of the criminal justice system to uphold Marshall’s example and the pillars I had internalized, so I stopped dreaming. I decided to do everything in my power to avoid being a part of an unfair system, because I accepted that nothing can be perfect and believed my dream was naïve.
However, I recently took classes at American University where I met criminal justice agents who emphasized the power of people to effect change from inside and outside the system. They understood the importance of justice for all and actively fought for that very idea. Their insight and passion revitalized my dream.
I realized that I could participate in the criminal justice system and improve it. I could no longer simply sit back and wish for change, and I definitely could not accept the system as is—far from perfect. Therefore, I joined IPC in 2020 to ensure my vision is reflected in our country’s justice system.