Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Menika B. Dirkson's "Hope and Struggle in the Policed City"

Menika B. Dirkson is Assistant Professor of African American History at Morgan State University.

She applied the "Page 99 Test" to her new book, Hope and Struggle in the Policed City: Black Criminalization and Resistance in Philadelphia, and reported the following:
From page 99:
“If my boy did this, if he helped kill that man . . . he’ll have to pay the price.”

Based on the interviews Graham, Peters, Porter, and Thomas conducted, the potential causes for the boys’ crime were complex. All the youths appeared to have come from decent homes, and their relatives often characterized them as well-mannered, occupied with school and sports, and willing to work to have money in their pockets. However, there were some internal and external socioeconomic factors that made their personal lives unstable. Harry and Edward McCloud came from a two-parent household they shared with their three younger sisters in a six-bedroom rowhome, but their father was unemployed. James Wright, who lived with hismother and four younger brothers, received a “church upbringing” in his household and had dreams of becoming a professional football player. However, Wright’s parents had separated three years prior, his family was on welfare because his mother was unable to work, and he recently failed several courses at Overbrook High School, which jeopardized his opportunity to graduate and become a professional athlete. Lonnie Collins and Harold Johnson came from broken nuclear families with an absent mother and a deceased father, respectively; regularly sought out employment to meet their financial needs; and were known to hang out with the “wrong crowd of boys” despite their parents and guardians’ advice to stay away from gangs. Although Collins and Johnson’s families explained that the youths had access to money for their “pocket” through employment or a one-time allowance, the Tribune alluded that the boys were financially frustrated because Collins had recently been laid off from his job at a grocery store while Johnson had to wait nearly a week to return to his summer job in Atlantic City. Nevertheless, by detailing these accounts of familial and financial turmoil, the Tribune journalists provided its readers with the sociological factors that possibly influenced the boys to commit the crime. Overall, the Tribune staff writers agreed with the general public that the murder of In-Ho Oh was “brutal” and tragic, but their article sought to humanize the boys amid incessant media reports that focused on the “bestiality” and “viciousness of the crime.”
If anyone were to read page 99 of my book, they would find an excerpt about the 1958 tragic robbery-murder of University of Pennsylvania graduate student In-Ho Oh by eleven black teenagers in West Philadelphia. This excerpt provides a good idea of what the entire book entails because it is one of many cases of poverty-induced crime that occurred in Philadelphia from the 1950s through the 1970s. Criminal cases involving black youth, particularly those who appeared to be gang-affiliated, often provoked a media blitz along with increased municipal funding for tough on crime policing rather than poverty alleviation. Throughout my book, I offer historical and sociological analyses of poverty-induced crimes like this one to argue that the perceived high rate of black crime that some journalists, police, city officials, and everyday citizens frame as a moral panic is not a result of racial inferiority, but generations of social ostracism (like racism and classism) along with a lack of access to decent employment, housing, education, and recreation necessary for a good quality of life. While some people in power promoted the idea of more government spending on police and prisons, there were community activists, social workers, former gang members, teachers, and even a few police officers who resisted this approach and operated anti-gang and anti-poverty organizations that offered black youth and adults the resources they needed to survive, including therapy sessions, mentorship, and job training, to steer them away from delinquency and crime and direct them to a life with a positive future. Ultimately, my book seeks to convince readers that there are non-violent and non-carceral approaches to solving poverty-induced crime and juvenile delinquency. For nearly a century, everyday Philadelphians have established settlement houses, gun violence prevention programs, and everything in between to curb crime when government-funded social welfare has been inadequate. This book highlights a communal struggle to prove that consistent and adequate government spending on schools, housing, and recreation are essential to reducing poverty and crime.
Learn more about Hope and Struggle in the Policed City at the NYU Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue