JAMES
CLINGMAN: New Jack Slavery
By: Professor James Clingman
July 8, 2005
Many of us know that Abe Lincoln and his
Emancipation Proclamation did not free our relatives. On the other hand, ma=
ny
of us believe slavery was abolished when the 13th Amendment to the Constitu=
tion
was ratified in December 1865, even though it took 100 years more to give us
our “civil rights.” But how many of us know that there is an
exception in the 13th Amendment that allows slavery in cases of those
“duly convicted” of crimes? Maybe that’s why we see all t=
he
private jails and all of the money being made on the stock market on prison=
s.
Yes, slavery is alive and well, and I saw a glowing example of it last mont=
h in
I was in that small town for the Habeas Corpus
hearing for William Mayo, the brother who was sentenced to two life sentenc=
es,
plus 40years, - for a robbery he did not commit. It took 13 years for Willi=
am
to get his hearing, and tens of thousands of dollars, a thousand of which w=
as
spent to bring the two men who committed the crime to Morgan to exonerate M=
ayo.
They were not even brought into the courtroom; but I’m getting ahead =
of
myself.
That morning in the remote town, dozens of
supporters came hundreds of miles to stand with William Mayo, to see justic=
e finally
rendered, to share the moment with William’s mother, his family, and
friends, as the judge would listen to the arguments and deliberate, and fin=
ally
decree that William should have another trial. Despite an over-abundance of
police officers, prison officers, and court room officers (You would have
thought William was a serial murderer or worse), we were full of positive
anticipation and didn’t think much of it when the judge had to be
reminded to “bring the petitioner” into the courtroom. Just an =
oversight,
you know.
The judge was also reminded by William’s
attorney that there were witnesses in the courtroom that would be called and
she requested they be sequestered in another room. Oh yes, she also suggest=
ed
to the judge that they be sworn in collectively, which the judge did. More
oversights, but no problem, right?
Judge Cato asked the attorneys to begin.
William’s attorney spoke for a few minutes, setting up the case and
recounting two major points: the men who did the crime perjured themselves =
and
would disclose that fact, as they had done several years ago, although no o=
ne
listened; and the prosecutor in the original case acted in a corruptible ma=
nner
as he cut deals with the real perpetrators to implicate William. That, too,=
was
disclosed years ago, but no one listened. This time we had the
“honorable” Judge Cato; he would listen.
After the prosecutor spoke for a few minutes, =
it
was time to rumble. We settled in for a long day in that southern courtroom=
, in
that quaint little town. The defense attorneys, armed with so many files th=
ey
had to be carted in by hand truck, were ready to go to war. They had the
evidence, the witnesses, and they had the hearing they had fought so long to
obtain. Justice. What a sweet sounding word.
After both attorneys spoke, Judge Cato clasped=
his
hands and began to speak. (By the way, Mayo was shackled hand and feet, and=
his
handcuffs were never taken off, but why was he dressed in clothes that are
specifically for persons being released? Hmmm.) Cato started to cite points=
he
had read from the case, and I sat there waiting for him to get to the good
part, you know, the part where he says, “Call your witnesses.” =
Ah
yeah, any minute now, I thought. My 12 year-old daughter was with me; I wan=
ted
her to see justice in action, and I wanted her to see what can happen to a
Black man once he gets caught up in “the system.”
As the judge continued to speak, something in =
his
voice and his legal jargon suggested he had already made up his mind, even
though he had sworn in the witnesses, even though they had spent
William’s money to bring the two perpetrators to Morgan, Georgia, and
even though William’s attorneys had hundreds, maybe thousands of
documents to share during their presentation. This guy had already made up =
his
mind. He was about to do something that would let everyone know that slavery
was still in effect and that he was the master, the one in charge.
Cato ended his brief statements by slamming his
gavel down and walking out of the courtroom, leaving in his wake a stunned
crown, a shocked attorney standing there with her mouth wide open wondering
what just happened, and a grieving mother who was not even allowed to hug h=
er
son. William was literally man-handled and shoved out of the courtroom with=
out
the opportunity to speak one word, to call his witnesses, or to state his c=
ase.
Thirteen years to get a hearing, but only 10 minutes to deny it. Justice? Y=
eah,
right.
What we saw that day reminded me of that little
word in the 13th Amendment: “except.” My daughter was traumatiz=
ed
by what she saw; her heart went out to William and his mother. “Why w=
as
that judge so mean, daddy?” “Why did they push William the way =
they
did?” “They would not even let him see his mother; why, dad?=
221;
We talked about it on our way out of Morgan, Georgia, a town that, now that=
I
have written this, I had better stay away from for fear that Judge Cato will
make a slave out of me. Pray for William’s release, and send some mon=
ey
to his defense fund.
Jam=
es E.
Clingman, an adjunct professor at the University of Cincinnati's African
American Studies department, is former editor of the Cincinnati Herald
Newspaper and founder of the Greater Cincinnati African American Chamber of
Commerce. He hosts the radio program, 'Blackonomics', and has written sever=
al
books, including: Economic Empowerment or Economic Enslavement - We have a
Choice; Blackonomics; and the recently published Black-o-Knowledge-Stuff. To
book Clingman for a speech or purchase his s books, go to his Web site www.blackonomics.com.