Gatesgate – Part III

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired!

These are my last comments on the Gates incident and the title above expresses my most heart felt sentiments. Unlike my president who thinks that bringing the principals into a face to face discussion of what happened in Cambridge, MA, I no longer believe that there will be positive results from that conversation. The after incident brouhaha has illustrated even more divisions in our society than I would have wanted to believe. The racial split is too obvious, the class split is a little more sheltered from site and the cops versus "them" (whoever "them" may be), is the most disturbing and infuriating.

Some time ago, shortly after my husband and I had bought our first home, a neighborhood kid (a 13 year old with an extensive juvenile record) broke into the house with three other youngsters. When they were unable to steal the stereo system that my husband had so carefully put together over a period of years, the kids grabbed newspaper, placed it in the middle of the bed and started a fire. Unfortunately for the juvies, a veteran Toledo detective had spotted the kids breaking in the house. As he sat in his car, he checked out home ownership and figured out what was going on. He watched the juveniles come out of the house (carrying nothing because they couldn’t untangle the stereo system wires which were carefully taped together) and spotted smoke coming from the second floor. He radioed the fire department (which luckily was two blocks away) and because of his vigilance, the house was saved from total destruction. His professionalism saved our first house from total destruction. The next day, he and one other officer presented picture of several young men and simply asked if we knew any of them. I identified all four quite easily…they were neighborhood kids….who saw me almost every day. In spite of the fact that a detective had caught them in the act, not a single one of those kids ever came to trial because someone in the legal system identified them as "poor misguided, misunderstood miscreants." That officer did his job, the legal system did not. Do I identify hims as a bad cop or a racist? No, I do not. We thanked him for doing his job (much to his embarassment) but we had no complaints.

I was young and naive in those days. I actually believed police were supposed to "protect and serve" and that they were present to protect the boundaries of common decency in our neighborhoods. Of course, I knew about Bull Connors and his water hoses. What young adult of the civil rights era did now know about racist, bad cops? The turmoil of the 60’s in a sence led to a quieter time in the 70’s when we were trying to sort out the lessons we had learned from those teachable moments.It was ten years later when I ran into a cop that not only lied but was willing to write the lie in his report and go to court and swear to his lie. That time I was pulled over in a speed trap on US 52 in southern Ohio. When I went to court, I managed to proved my innocence. For appearing in court, I was fined seven dollars in court cost and the so-called speeding ticket was torn up. (I have always figured that the court costs were charged because I argued with the judge which had nothing to do with the cop.) That particular cop may or may not have been a racist but…he was definitely a liar. The speed trap incident bothered me for a long time because one of my best friends from childhood was the daughter of the police chief in the small West Virginia town where I grew up. I did not want to believe that a cop could be so unethical…it wasn’t supposed to happen.

Before my daughter was born, her father and I went to a friend’s house for dinner. He and his wife lived in an apartment near the University of Toledo and we had been friends for quite some time…in fact, we had gone to their wedding. As we putt-putted to our home inthe Old West End in our 70 VW beetle, two Toledo cops pulled us over. I am sure they both caught my schoolteacher glare as I asked why we had been stopped. They asked if we had come from the university area and when we answered yes, they indicated that there had been a robbery in that area a few minutes before and the thieves had absconded in a VW beetle. They then (politley) asked if they could search the car. I shrugged my shoulders and told them to go ahead. Our trunk was filled with miscellaneous stuff from my old apartment. I sat there and watched them pull everything out piece by piece. Let’s face it, thieves do not bother with area rugs and assorted books and dishes. After they were satisfied that we were not the thieves, they apologized and started to leave until I folded my arms and suggested that since they had taken everything out of my trunk, they should put everything back! They looked kind of sheepish but they did as I asked. Because they were white and I was black, should I call them racists? No…there was no reason to go that route…they were simply doing their job.

I relate these incidents to simply say…every contact a black person has with a police officer is not negative. After all our neighbor, who was then our local police chief, shared our grief when our son died. He could have cared less that he was white and we were black. He was simply our neighbor (and no this is not a small town, it is a small city). Would I call him a racist? NO, not unless I want to sound like a fool and that is what I would be.

However, on Martin Luther King day nearly six years ago, I ran into a cop who was not only a racist, he was definitely profiling and he was a liar. Without going into any details, his lies tripped him up. The more he tried to explain himself (after the fact) the more his inconsistencies tripped him up. (Does this sound familiar?)
I will not go into details except to say that when a person puts on that badge and picks up that gun, that person needs to understand not only himself/herself but the people he (or she) comes into contact with on a daily basis. The officer that truly understands his/her community and the people in that community, the better a police person he or she will be. That officer is to be respected. The officer who is ego-involved, who misrepresents the truth on a police report, who is on a power trip, who does not respect the cultures within the community, who lets his contempt for people of different (religion, race, culture, life-experience) show does not need to wear the badge…ever. I really don’t care if the cop is male, female, black, white, pink, purple or polkadotted, gay or straight. Defending the mistakes of a fellow cop when you know that a mistake was made..contributes to a negative view of all who wear the badge (and the black female cop with her vitriolic defense of an error in judgment as well as the black male cop who did the same needs to examine her/his relationship with the greater community of minorities). Do me and the rest of us old black folk…STAY OUT OF OUR NEIGHBORHOODS….you don’t have the life experience to understand what we see amd have seen in the last forty plus years of our adult lives.

Hillbilly Views

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25 Random Things About Me

This is a popular game on Facebook these days.  But I’m posting on my site, because that’s the point of having your own site, right? 

Take a look, and feel free to post your own list. 

1. I have two older brothers.  I have been told (not by my parents) that I was an attempt to have a girl, to be named Barbara.
    
2. My dad gave all of his kids’ multisyllabic names as a device to help us learn the alphabet.
    
3. My brother and I aren’t the first filmmakers in the Hudlin family.  Our great-great granduncle, Richard Hudlin, made films at the turn of the century, during the film great film boom.  We didn’t know about him until recently.  Don’t know if any of his movies survive.
    
4. My kindergarten was later turned into the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Skating Rink in 1968.  That name was later reduced to Skate King by the 80’s. 
    
5. My first “favorite record” was LOUIE LOUIE by the Kingsmen.  Apparently I would bounce up and down in my diaper, which amused by older brothers to no end.  Two of the first 45s I bought were SCORPIO by Dennis Coffey, and YOU WANT IT, YOU GOT IT by the Detroit Emeralds.  I can’t believe I can’t remember the third one I bought at the same time as the other two.  First album was STAND by Sly and the Family Stone.  The title song is still my favorite anthem.  Play it at my funeral.
    
6. As a kid, I had a gold bicycle with purple banana seat.  I also had a ten speed bike with no brakes.  I’d go down steep hills into dead ends, swerve into heavy traffic, even got hit by a car once.  God must love me because I should be dead.
    
7. As a kid, my best friends were Sanfus and Brian.  Brian didn’t live across the street, but his grandma did, and he was over there all the time, usually mopping the floors with Pine-Sol.  His grandma dipped snuff, and while we played “Laugh In” on the front porch, she would pop out the front door periodically and spit.

   BTW, “Laugh In”, was our made up game where one person stood up and told jokes until someone else laughed, at which time they had to stand up and tell jokes until they got someone to replace them.   A brutal training ground for comedy.
    

8. I’ve never gotten high or drunk, or had a perm, jheri-curl or a six-week blow out.  Also, no tattoos, brands or piercings. 
    
9. I went to a Catholic high school.   Years later, when they found dangerous amounts of asbestos in the building, the only part of the state that could pay to remove it was the corrections department.  So now my old high school is now a juvenile prison. 
    
10. I never visited Harvard before arriving there for classes.  I showed up alone with a bunch of heavy ass boxes.  Going to visit the campus beforehand seemed like a waste of money.  It didn’t matter what it looked like – if I got in, I was going, and that was that.  I got into every school I applied to, but my brother, a Yalie, said I should go to Harvard.  So I went.
     
11. On my third day there, there’s a mixer where all the freshmen meet the University president.  Everyone there had on the same outfit – blue blazer, khaki pants, white shirt, red tie. 

    Except me.  I had on a white jacket with collar popped and sleeves pushed up, and a loose knit tie…remember, this is the 80s GQ era. 

    I surveyed the room, and decided no one there knew how to dress but me. 
     

12. I clearly remember my senior year when I realized I didn’t have what it took to be a filmmaker.  I was checking out the camera from the equipment room and had to be reminded to make sure I had the light meter.  The fact that I almost left without a key piece of equipment made me realize I was a complete incompetent.  It was a moment of clarity, and as I carried the heavy equipment back to my dorm room, I felt terrible about wasting my parent’s money on a degree I didn’t deserve. 

    Since I couldn’t think anything better to do, I finished by senior thesis film, HOUSE PARTY.  It worked out after all.
     

13. I’m grateful to have dated a model when I was still broke.  Not dating a hot chick until you’re famous and/or rich leads to all kinds of anger and insecurity.
     
14. When I was a kid, my father warned me against using anti-perspirant every day.  He said every once and a while it’s good just to let the body sweat it out.  I ignored that nasty sounding piece of advice until I got ill from the aluminum or whatever it is in anti-perspirant and switched to deodorant that doesn’t have the same pore-plugging effect. 
     
15. I’d gladly live twice as long.  In good health, of course.  I want to see how things work out.  I also have a lot of stuff on my “to do” list.  Too many books to read, movies to watch, places to visit and skills to acquire.  I want to learn how to play piano and guitar, master another language or two, get a tennis game, score a goal in hockey.
     
16. My dad always wanted to go to the Rose Bowl Parade.  I was too self-absorbed to invite him out and do it. I regret that all the time.  I also have his Christmas present that I never got to give him because he passed away before the holiday.  So now I just give people gifts when I feel like it.  Don’t wait to share love.
17. Ex-girlfriends have given me some great advice.  One said “The sooner you admit who you really are, the sooner you’ll get where you want to go”.  Another said:  “Maybe the problem isn’t that you don’t have enough control.  Maybe the problem is you’ve got too much control”. 
     
18. GREAT WHITE HYPE wasn’t a hit movie, but I got a lot out of it.  My doctor, one of my best friends, my wife…sometimes good things can come from an unsuccessful product or venture.
     
19. I like living in a time that once looked like “the future” – cell phones, giant flat screen TVs, black president.  Like most black people, I have no nostalgia about any other period of history.  Sure, I’d like to meet Jesus and Thurgood Marshall and Jimi Hendrix…then step back into my time machine and go home.

    Still pissed that we don’t have flying cars, though.  That would be HOT.
     

20. I have very good taste in friends.  I have maintained relationships from every period of my life, from childhood through college and living on both coasts.  A few of them have self-destructed or done me wrong, but most of them are loyal, smart and interesting people to be around. 
     
21. One of the nicest things about working at BET was making pop entertainment for three years without worrying about a “crossover audience”.  That was a real luxury.
     
22. People always mistake kindness for weakness.  Maybe I would go further in life being more ruthless.  But I’ve always done well, and I think one of the reasons is because of who I am as a person.

    I think the “nice guy/jerk” dynamic is the same in business as it is in relationships.  When I was young, I wondered while jerks got the girls.  Later I realize that jerks were assertive, and nice guys didn’t speak up.  Same in business.  You don’t have to be jerk to have your business tight.  
     

23. Hollywood preys on the insecure.  You can have a million dollars and feel broke.  The only people who truly win this game by its own rules are psychopaths, and there are plenty of them.  If you are not one of them, then don’t seek their approval.  They are f*cking crazy.
     
24. When people call me “Mr. Hudlin”, I don’t think “that’s my dad”.  No, I am Mr. Hudlin.  I am a grown ass man and I’ve earned it.
     
25. I am in constant awe of my children.

Reginald Hudlin

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