5A
OPINIONS/The Charlotte Post
March 13,1997
Abdicating responsibility results in moral breakdown
Lenora
Fulani
We look at the front page of
the newspaper or turn on the
nightly news, and there it is: yet
another “unimaginable” display
of inhumanity. Some of us go on
reading or watching with a sort
of sickened fascination. Some of
us may turn the channel or the
page, not wanting to know any
more. All of us are bewildered;
we ask ourselves and each
other: “How can such things
happen?”
Obviously, this moral unravel
ing does not have a single
“cause.” Some say it’s located in
the breakdown of the family.
Others point to the skewed dis
tribution of wealth and privi
lege, even though nowadays vio
lence and brutality cross class,
ethnic and racial lines.
All of these may be factors.
But at a more fundamental
level, the rise of violence and
inhumanity has to do with the
belief that we do not control oiu
lives, our communities or,
indeed, our country. Without
that ownership and control, it
becomes increasingly difBcult to
take personal responsibility.
And once people stop taking
responsibility, the rest of moral
ity begins its inevitable decline.
As a developmental psycholo
gist, 1 have seen this pattern
over and over. When a husband
and a wife are having marital
problems and each has a list of
“grievances” against the other,
there is no way out of the trou
ble unless they can find a way to
take ownership of and responsi
bility for their relationship -
rather than just for themselves.
Think of parents telling a
youngster who keeps a messy
room or leaves dishes in the
sink: “Just wait until you have
your own home and you’ll see
what it’s like.” They know it
takes having your own home to
want to keep it clean.
This is likewise true for a com
munity or a nation. When peo
ple feel that they do not have a
stake in their community or
country and they cannot find a
way to change that the condi
tions are ripe for moral decline.
How do we create this sense of
ownership? To start with, our
young people need a way to take
some control over their own
fives, some power and initiative
- sometimes even in small
ways. One such small way is the
New York-based All Stars
Talent Show Network.
With funds donated by private
citizens, the All Stars have built
over the past 12 years a perma
nent talent show network run
entirely by inner-city youth -
they perform, run aU the techni
cal equipment, staff the box
office and even provide security.
The results are promising; the
conunmiities where it has taken
root all have seen a drop in
youth crime. But it will take
more. With kids you can start
small, but as kids grow up they
need to continue to feel power in
their fives - not just in politics,
but in their work and their com
munity. We’ve already seen
what happens when they don’t.
LENORA FULANI is the first
black woman to appear on the
presidential ballot in all SO
states.
War on young criminals or on black kids?
By Joel Shashenko
THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
ALBANY, N.Y. - 'The image of juvenile felons - strong,
angry, rash and heartless - is one of the most alarming
in society.
Potential victims run the gamut from their fellow
school children to the elderly, meaning that no iimocent
person is safe.
Gov. George Pataki, the Republican-controlled state
Senate, Attorney General Dennis Vacco and even
Democratic state Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver have
declared a war, of sorts, on yoimg criminals by advocat
ing stringent, adult-type penalties for teens as young as
13 who are caught doing adult-type crimes.
Yet Albany’s offensive against the juvenile offender has
a very different connotation to many blacks and
Hispanics in New York.
“l^en Pataki or anyone else is talking about ‘crime
and juveniles,’ they are basically talking about black
kids,” said Alice Green of the Center for Law and Justice
in Albany. “What they are really looking at and what
they are really developing policies for are kids of color.”
Late last month. Democratic Sen. Alton Waldon Jr. of
Queens argued vigorously on the floor of the Senate
against a tough juvenile crime bill because he said it
would chiefly penalize minority youths. The measure
was formulated by Republican senators and stands no
chance of being approved in its current form by the
Democratic-led Assembly.
Waldon said he becomes “super-driven to help correct
these evils” because he feels the all-white GOP delega
tion which controls the Senate cannot appreciate what
most urban minority youths face.
“1 am reacting to the racism evidenced here by my col
leagues,” Waldon told The Associated Press last week.
“The tragedy of all this is 1 don’t believe that they are
consciously fimctioning from a racist base. It’s just that
their whole maturation process, now that they’re age 60
or 65, views the world differently. If you would look at it
analytically, you would see it is racist.”
The state Division of Criminal Justice Services report
ed last month that in New York City, young blacks are
19 times more likely to be arrested than whites.
Hispanics are nine times as fikely to be arrested.
Blacks accoimted for 20 percent of 10- to 15-year-olds in
the state’s population, 42 percent of juveniles arrested for
offenses and 62 percent of juveniles placed in the custody
of the Division for Youth. About 90 percent of the resi
dents in prison-like “secure” facilities operated by the
state Division for Youth are black or Hispanic.
State researchers cautioned, however, that those dis
proportions do not necessarily show that the “juvenile
justice system di.scriminates against minorities.”
The head of the NAACP in New York said the fact that
kids from minority communities are committing more
crimes than their white counterparts reflects the absence
of hope and opportunities they see in their neighbor
hoods.
“This crackdown on juvenile justice, what they need to
be cracking up on is excellence in education,” Hazel
Dukes said. “They have to improve education programs
so urban schools wfll not be teaching children in bath
rooms.”
No one, least of aU those in minority communities who
tend to be the victims of most violent crime in the state,
is “condoning antisocial behavior,” Dukes said.
The only nonwhite ever elected to statewide office in
New York, Comptroller H. Carl McCall, said the state’s
system for dealing with juvenile offenders is flawed,
whether those wayward youths are white, black,
Hispanic or otherwise.
“Fm prepared to look at it without the racial overtones,
but simply to say, “This is a system that does not work,”’
McCall said. “Tffiere is no rehabilitation or education
component in it and kids come out of it and it seems to be
a sort of prep school for long-term involvement in the
adult system.”
Finding a way to slice through poverty, illiteracy and
one-family households in nonwhite communities is the
ultimate answer, McCall said.
“We’ve got to put more money into the front-end in
terms of our school system and the supportive system for
schools,” he said. “That seems to me to be a better expen
diture.”
JOEL STASHENKO is Capitol Editor for The
Associated Press in Albany, N.Y.
There’s still satisfaction in doing a job right
I . “When 1 started practicing law
I in 1967, things were different.”
' ' James Ferguson, one of the
I state’s most respected trial
lawyers, is talking to me from a
movie-sized TV screen at the
N.C. Bar Center in Caiy.
• Each year 1 have to go back to
school. Twelve hours each year
4 at a minimum - is what it
' takes to keep my license to prac
tice law.
‘ Ferguson and three other dis
tinguished North Carolina
lawyers - senior members of the
bar — are sharing their video
taped thoughts on the changes
in the law profession during
their times of practice. 1 know
what they are talking about:
The movement to specialization,
the loss of contact and friend
ships with clients and other
lawyers, billing by the minute,
making more money, and long
ing for hy-gone days when law
practice was more professional.
1 grimace as I think about it,
but 1 am a “senior member” of
the bar, too. These folks are my
age. They are taking me back in
Ferguson
time.
Today, Ferguson is a well
known leader of the civil rights
and civil liberties movements in
North Carolina. But things
were different
when 1 first vis
ited his “walk-
up” law office in
a seedy section
of Charlotte in
1968. A few
people had
taken note thatl
he and two or
three others
had established
the first racial
ly integrated
law firm in the state. Our state
was just beginning the reorder
ing of its social system, so an
integrated law firm was news.
Otherwise, Ferguson was
unknown.
What was 1 doing at his office
back then? 1 was looking for a
job. It was the winter of my last
year in a northern law school
and 1 wanted to come back
home. 1 wasn’t sure 1 could get a
job, though. Earlier, I had visit
ed the state bar’s executive to
introduce myself and prepare
the way for my admission.
(Things were a little more per
sonal then - more like getting
into a fraternity.) He had greet
ed me warmly arid sat me down
across from the Confederate flag
behind his desk and asked,
“Now where are you in law
school?”
When I told him, he shouted,
‘Tale, Yale, why in the world
did you go to that hellhole?”
None of the lawyers and law
firms that I had contacted were
that negative. In fact, they could
not have been more cordial. But
there wasn’t a lot of enthusiasm
for me or my law school in my
home state. And there were no
job offers. 1 was not going to
panic. But my wife and 1 had a
baby on the way.
My father, whose character,
wisdom, and goodness, had
always heen the cornerstone of
my strength, had just learned
that he had a disease whose
name 1 had never heard before
- Alzheimer’s. I thought some
“face to face” visits to lawyers
might help get the job offer 1
needed.
In Raleigh, at the first firm 1
visited, one of the partners
introduced me to a friend who
had come to plot politics — a TV
personality named Jesse Helms.
In the next firm, the senior part
ner was running for governor.
Even in Charlotte, when I vis
ited its largest firm, one of the
senior partners kept me waiting
at his desk while he gave tele
phone advice to one of the
Republican candidates for gov
ernor. Lots of nice people. Lots
of politics. No job offers. No
prospects for one.
So, I walked down East Trade
Street in Charlotte to
Ferguson’s firm. His senior
partner, Julius Chambers (now
Chancellor at North Carolina
Central University) had agreed
to see me. But he was counsel
ing Reginald Hawkins, another
candidate for governor. More
politics! But another lawyer
explained what their firm was
all about.
Some of what he said is what
Ferguson is saying now up
there on the TV scene.
He is telling us what it was
like in the late 1960’s to charge
into our state’s courts to fight
for changes that so many of us
opposed. He explains that he
and his partners resolved that
they would conduct their law
practice with utmost profession
alism. Their hostility to the
ideas of their opponents would
not carry over into their profes
sional relations with them. They
would, they hoped, gradually
earn the respect of their adver
saries.
Their strategy paid off. When
Ferguson’s law offices burned to
the ground a few years later,
lawyers from all over North
Carolina called to offer help.
Even those on the other side in
pending cases shared their files
and gave office space and cleri
cal assistance.
Professionalism promotes pro
fessionalism, he says. And it
melts away the personal hostili
ty that can develop when people
find themselves on opposite
sides of a controversial issue.
Those who mourn about the
loss of professionalism today
should take care not to join
forces with those who diminish
the practice. Don’t excuse
unprofessional actions by say
ing, “Since everybody else is
doing it, so must I.”
Finally, he tells us this: If, as a
lawyer, you think about making
money more than serving oth
ers, you won’t get the satisfac
tion that comes to the true pro
fessionals. It is such basic truth.
But the mixture of this message
with all my memories makes it
aU so much richer.
Even that seemingly unsuc
cessful job search worked out
well. A few months later,
Kennedy, Covington, Lobdell
and Hickman, the other firm I
had visited in Charlotte, called
with a job offer. They took me in
and taught me the discipline of
professionalism and the joy of it
- grounded, just as Ferguson is
saying now on the TV screen, in
service to others.
D.G. MARTIN is vice presi
dent Public Affairs for the
University of North Carolina
system. He can be reached via e-
mail at dgmartin@ga.unc.edu.
Letters to The Post
New arena is worth
the investment
I am an attorney in Charlotte
and have been practicing law in
Uptown for almost ten years
now. I have been following the
recent developments regarding
the building of an Uptown
arena. I want to express to you
both my support for the Uptown
arena project and my concern
that an incredible opportunity
for Uptown may be jeopardized
if this arena is not built.
It is well worth the ta:( dollars
invested if Charlotte can retain
the Hornets. While a number of
people say they do not want tax
dollars spent for sports-related
projects, the fact remains that
sports are a vital part of our
community, sports have support
from a gijeat number of people
all over the Carolinas (not just
Charlotte), and sporting events,
such as the Hornets games,
bring a great deal of revenue
into our City. An Uptown arena
will not only bring sports and
other special events to uptown,
hut will provide the support and
growth for other businesses in
this area as well. There is no
better example of this than the
positive economic development
in the lyvola Road area around
the present coliseum.
I beheve a thriving uptown is
crucial to Charlotte’s continued
growth and success in the
future. The city has put great
efforts into the revitalization of
Uptown in the 10 years I have
been in Charlotte and must con
tinue this progress in order to
preserve what it has already
accomplished. I have not heard
of any other ideas for uptown
that could have as great an
impact on this area and the city
as the arena project.
James B. Spears Jr.
Charlotte
Arena will liven
Charlotte’s center
Every year, I attend a meet
ing in San Jose, Calif
Last year, I had an opportu
nity to go to a San Jose
Sharks NHL hockey game at
their new downtown arena.
Downtown San Jose is very
much like Charlotte at 6 PM
— dead. It was quite a sight
to see thousands of people
walking from offices, restau
rants, and parking lots to a
downtown game. The restau
rants in my hotel were
jammed with Sharks fans,
both before and after the
game.
Though I have great seats
currently at the Charlotte
Coliseum and probably would
not be able to get comparable
seats in a new one, I feel it
needs to be in uptown
Charlotte to finally bring life
to evenings, as the Panthers
have done on Sunday after
noon. I also believe, this new
arena will have long term eco
nomic enhancements for
Charlotte.
Charles M. Evans
Charlotte
What’s on
your mind?
Send your comments to The
Charlotte Post, P.O. Box 30144,
Charlotte, N.C. 28230 or fax
(704) 342-2160. You can also use
E-mail - charpost@clt.mind-
spring.com
All correspondence must include
a daytime telephone number for
verification.
Our fascination with death and destruction makes us less caring
By Ad Crable
THE LANCASTER NEW ERA
LANCASTER, Pa. - “Watch
as African hunting dogs —
unwilling to wait for their vic
tim to die and take a chance on
losing it to a larger predator -
wfll consume it while it’s alive ...
EVEN WHILE IT’S STAND
ING.”
By the time you see the grisly
photos accompanying this slick
brochure, 'Time-Life Video hopes
you will be sufficiently foaming
at the mouth to purchase the
complete one-a-month “Nature’s
Assassins” series.
'There are lions running down
terrified deer, crocodiles clamp
ing down on the noses of wilde
beest at the water hole. Shot by
“fearless cinematographers,” we
are reminded.
'Who could resist this invita
tion for a ringside seat at
“nature’s kiUing fields”?
We’ve come a long way, baby,
finm ‘Wild Kingdom.”
Let’s see, what could be a httle
more voyeuristic? How about
adding humans to the equation?
Find the remote and step into
the living room, where FOX
Broadcasting Co. airs its third
“When Animals Attack” special.
Watch host Robert Urich carry
an appropriately somber
demeanor as he introduces us to
people being bitten, stomped,
squeezed, stung and clawed by
one animal or another. The
show comes on the heels of
“Close Call: Cheating Death II.”
Never mind that the victims
are sometimes severely injured,
and likely traumatized. They
survived, so we don’t have to
feel guilty about watching this
stuff, right? Unfortunately, dan
gerously, we are fast shedding
our uneasiness at turning vio
lence, tragedy and misery into a
viflgar form of entertainment.
I first became uneasy when
“Cops” hit the air. It’s com
pelling, it’s real. I watch it occa
sionally. But it’s still making
entertainment and dollars out of
drug addiction, crime, violence,
and misfortune.
Not long after, cable stations
began airing extreme fighting,
in which combatants are thrown
into cages to pummel each other
into unconsciousness.
Acceptance of violence as
amusement is becoming alarm
ingly mainstream. As part of
their 11 p.m. news recently, a
Harrisonburg, Va., television
station showed a motorcycle
stunt rider falling 60 feet to his
death, landing squarely on his
head. There wasn’t a word of
caution before the footage, and
immediately afterward, the
anchor donned a smile as he
segued into a fluff feature about
a basket of 30-year-old eggs
being found unbroken in a bam.
How far will we go?
For decades, the “Faces of
Death” films have been under-
groimd tests of squeamishness.
But just two weeks ago I saw a
commercial for a mail-order
video with a collection of people
being killed in various acci
dents. All captm-ed live on film.
Yes, death and violence,
whether in nature or civiliza
tion, is a fact^ of life. Yes, Fm a
hunter and killing is violent.
But when we reduce violence to
a blood sport it becomes
obscene. \
When we fail te be shocked by
it, we chip away at the sanctity
of life. When we find it easier to
think of people and animals as
mere objects, our capacity for
compassion and concern for
both is diluted. It becomes easi
er not te feel or care.
AD CRABLE is a columnist
for the Lancaster New Era in
Pennsylvania.