Essay 891

From The Washington Post…

-----------------------------------------

Debating Race in Cyberspace
D.C. E-Mail Lists Allow Spirited Discussions at a Safe Distance

By Henri E. Cauvin
Washington Post Staff Writer

It didn’t take long for the e-mail lists to light up.

Andy Solberg, a well-liked police commander, had been reassigned after saying that black people were an unusual sight in Georgetown.

Faster than anyone could call an old-fashioned, down-at-the-elementary-school community meeting, e-mail lists in Cleveland Park, Chevy Chase and elsewhere were abuzz.

First came a flurry of testimonials for the embattled acting commander of the 2nd Police District, defending him and sometimes sticking up for his comments. And then came the angry replies, from people appalled by what seemed to be open support among their neighbors for racial profiling as a police policy.

Suddenly people more accustomed to going online to compare contractor references and complain about missed recycling pickups found themselves engulfed in a forum about race and crime in a city long defined by both.

“So, yes, black people do live in Georgetown, but their numbers are very few. It is not racist to state this fact,” a man wrote on the Cleveland Park e-mail list. “To be suspicious at the sight of a couple of young black men hanging out along the quiet residential streets of Georgetown after 2 o’clock in the morning is not racial profiling, it is common sense.”

The next day came a reply: “No, it is racial profiling. If you think they are suspicious primarily because they are black, that is the definition of racial profiling. We can’t have people suggesting that citizens should call 911 whenever they see a black man in their neighborhood.”

And so it went for days, a raw, impromptu debate almost unimaginable anywhere but online -- fueled by the immediacy of Internet communication and stimulated by the sense of security that comes with composing your thoughts in the solitude of your home.

Often people are reluctant to talk openly and deeply about race, especially among strangers. But in the furor that erupted after Solberg’s comments, people expressed themselves with a candor that to some was open and refreshing and to others was abrasive and ignorant.

Solberg had made his remarks at a community meeting July 10, a day after a white man from Britain was slain in Georgetown. Four black people were charged in the killing. Urging anxious residents to report suspicious activity to police, Solberg said, “This is not a racial thing to say that black people are unusual in Georgetown. This is a fact of life.” The next day, Police Chief Charles H. Ramsey reassigned him, saying his comments at the meeting were unacceptable.

Upper Northwest, where in just a few months Solberg had established himself as a fast-acting commander, was soon up in arms, demanding his reinstatement. After Solberg made a public apology, Ramsey reinstated him -- but by then, the public debate was on.

“He is not a racist. He was doing his job. He may not have been politically correct but he was direct,” one woman wrote on the Cleveland Park list a couple of days after Solberg’s reassignment. “… Sometimes, you know something is not right, but how do you tell the police without sounding racist?”

A couple of days later, a woman offered her take. “Sure people should remain vigilant and report suspicious activity, but stating that black people are unusual in Georgetown is racist. Tell that to all the black people who come to Georgetown to shop or eat out, or all of the students who attend Ellington, Georgetown U, GW, etc.”

This was not the first time that a big issue such as race or class had surfaced on a neighborhood e-mail list in the District. But the breadth and energy of the debate were a sign of how important the lists have become as more and more people turn to them, often to talk to the people just down the street.

“I think it was really healthy,” said Peggy Robin, who moderates the 4,300-member Cleveland Park list with her husband, Bill Adler. “I think it got a lot of dialogue going that otherwise never would have happened.”

E-mail lists are changing the way neighbors communicate. In many respects, it’s for the better. But not always, say some people, and few subjects are as fraught with possibilities -- and perils -- as race.

Which is why Don Squires of Shepherd Park thought “long and hard” before diving into the debate.

“Those kind of subjects do not do well on Listservs,” said Squires, who knows Solberg from Shepherd Elementary, the Northwest Washington school their children have attended. “I think those subjects are best discussed face to face, in person, so people can explain fully what they mean and things are not misinterpreted. Listservs are prone to people overreacting and people dashing off quick e-mails without thinking.”

In the Chevy Chase neighborhood, the always busy list of more than 1,700 members was even busier than usual with discussions about the commander.

“I have received several offline messages from people who tell me I just don’t get it,” one woman wrote. “I find it interesting that the writers, none of whom I know personally, all assume I am Caucasian and/or have never suffered discrimination. I don’t want to reopen that discussion but only want to point out that many of us tend to make snap judgments about a person based on a few words with no context.”

Reggie Sanders wrote back: “Perhaps the reason you don’t get it is because you may not have to. You are so concerned about Officer Solberg’s reputation and future job prospects you gloss over the fact that his words, as a sworn public servant, could lead to a larger issue affecting many lives.”

Sanders, a public relations consultant who recently moved from Chevy Chase to Manor Park, said he was stunned at how unconcerned some of his old neighbors were about the substance of Solberg’s comments.

“A lot of these people have grown up and gone on with most of their lives and never had any interaction with people who didn’t look like them,” he said in an interview.

So he spoke up, not so much to scold but to enlighten others who might not have been stopped at gunpoint by police, as he once was, he said.

“The Listserv gave us a place to talk about this. I didn’t get into the race-baiting and the name-calling and the smart-aleck remarks. What I was trying to say was I want to keep the dialogue going,” he said.

And that is the goal, said the founder and moderator of the Chevy Chase list, Mary Rowse. “People are given an opportunity to weigh in on any subject, and people weigh in thoughtfully,” she said.

At an Advisory Neighborhood Commission meeting or at Starbucks, that wouldn’t necessarily happen, she said. People would be cut off, by the clock or by another person. On the e-mail list, people actually have time to think about what someone said and about what they are going to say in reply, and what they say reaches far more people than it ever would during an ordinary neighborhood meeting or a stop at the coffeehouse.

But civility is not always easy to maintain, particularly when a contentious, complicated topic such as race surfaces, as it did here.

“People felt like it gave them free rein to say and do things that they might not otherwise publicly say,” Michele Pollak of Chevy Chase said in an interview.

Pollak, a former civil rights lawyer who is white, wrote of black colleagues and friends who had endured particular scrutiny from police simply because they were black. “I was offended by the thought that in a city that is majority African American that anyone should say there’s any place that an African American should not be,” she said.

And the sort of candor she saw on the list was telling, she said. “I think race is a hard thing to talk about, but I found it interesting that people found it not so hard to talk about it, when it came to racial profiling, because they viewed it as a sensible thing.”

Deborah Tannen, an author and Georgetown University linguist, said the Internet “clearly makes people freer with hostile invective. … There’s the anonymity, there’s the speed. You can dash it off and hit that send button.”

The positive side, she said, is that “everyone gets their say.”

But it can make for a confusing confluence of private and public, she said. “It feels private. It’s your home, it’s your computer screen, it’s almost like you're writing in a journal. But if you were standing with 500 people facing you, you would have the sense that you’re in a public forum, which is what you are in.”

And as democratic and diverse as the e-mail exchanges can be, they are not perfect.

“Listservs are helpful and allow people to express their views,” Cathy Pollin of Chevy Chase said as she read the newspaper at Starbucks, “but it’s not the same thing as having to sit across from another person and listen to other ideas. Real communication isn’t just about what you say. It’s about how you look, how you move. And I think we’re losing that.”