April 4, 2001 NYT
From Court Order to Reality: A Diverse Boston Police Force
By C. J. CHIVERS
BOSTON — After more than a
quarter-century of court-ordered
diversification, the police here have achieved
one of law enforcement's more elusive goals:
a force in which the proportion of blacks in
uniform approximates the proportion of black
residents in the city.
The integration of Boston's blue line is in
many ways the straightforward consequence
of an activist federal court that forced the
police, just as it forced the schools, to
provide more minority access. A 1973
consent decree, still in effect, requires the
Police Department to select recruits from a
list that includes one minority candidate for
every white one.
But the force's integration success also results
from a department whose leadership has
come to accept one of the court's underlying
propositions: that something approaching
racial balancing — a police force whose
demographics match those of the city — can
improve not just the social climate but the
effectiveness of the police as well.
To this end, as white men have challenged the
consent decree in court, saying it is
unconstitutional and a tool that has outlived its
usefulness, the city has fought to keep it in
effect. It has also pursued administrative
measures that could ensure that a
proportionate number of minority applicants
will be hired and promoted should the
consent decree expire or fall in a court
challenge.
For example, the department now actively
recruits applicants who speak foreign
languages, is overhauling promotion rules in a way that could advance more
minority
officers, and recruits only city residents, which provides a proportionally
more
diverse group of applicants than if it accepted suburban residents, too.
Police Commissioner Paul F. Evans summarized the official sentiment this
way: "I'm
an attorney, and I know the arguments for and against affirmative action
well enough
to argue either side. But I'm also a practical person and police commander,
and I
know that having African-American and Hispanic and Vietnamese officers,
people
of different backgrounds and cultures who can conduct comfortable interviews
with
crime victims and can infiltrate crime rings that aren't white — I know
the need for
that is just common sense."
Mr. Evans and others said the department seemed to have both improved its
reputation and successfully combated crime during the period diversity
took hold.
The department has helped bring about a decade of declines in serious crime
in the
city, with the reductions achieved in everything from homicide to car theft.
And James J. Fyfe, a criminologist at Temple University and a former New
York
City police officer, said that in recent years the Boston department had
simultaneously repaired much of its image as insensitive and insular.
Those troubles were perhaps no more rawly in evidence than in 1989, when
the
Boston police swept through Roxbury, a black neighborhood, stopping and
interrogating scores of black men and youths in pursuit of what they believed
was
the killer of a pregnant white woman. The authorities eventually concluded
that the
killer was the woman's husband, Charles Stuart, who later committed suicide.
The
handling of the case led to several investigations into the Police Department's
treatment of the city's black residents.
"During the 1970's and 1980's I could have made a very good living as an
expert in
civil rights cases in Boston," Dr. Fyfe said. "That, interestingly, has
changed. It's very
clear that something dramatic has happened."
The effects of the court order and the department's internal efforts are
also apparent
in a comparison with New York. In the mid-1970's, 3.5 percent of the officers
in
Boston were black men. Since then, the percentage has increased to 18.8.
When
black women are added, the proportion climbs to 24.6 percent, which exceeds
the
Census Bureau's latest count of black representation in the city.
During the same period in New York, the police increased the percentage
of male
black officers to 9.2 from 7.7. With black women, representation reaches
14
percent, slightly more than half of the census's estimate of black residents.
Certainly, Boston has enjoyed greater success in part because it operates
under
standards different from New York's. Boston accepts high school graduates
as
recruits, while since the mid-1990's New York has required two years of
college for
almost all recruits, a standard that disproportionately disqualifies minority
applicants.
Further, New York has no residency requirement, having relied on applicants
from
the suburbs to populate its ranks.
And some of Boston's diversification seems connected to one of its attractive
benefits: pay. Police officers start here at about $40,000 a year, compared
with
$31,305 in New York. Wearing a police uniform in Boston can be so lucrative
that
newspapers make sport of publishing lists of the city's highest-paid officers,
who
double, even triple, their salaries with overtime, detail pay or other
bonuses. The
most recent roster, published in The Boston Herald, included 11 officers
who
earned more than $200,000 in 2000, and 727 who earned more than $100,000.
The department has roughly 2,200 officers.
"Financially, it's the best job in Boston for someone with a high school
diploma,"
said Leonard C. Alkins, president of the Boston branch of the N.A.A.C.P.
In New York, Police Commissioner Bernard B. Kerik declined to comment on
Boston's police demographics. But black officers and others in New York
said they
were impressed that Boston, where residents defied school integration in
the 1970's,
had moved so far ahead of New York in integrating blacks.
"It is impossible to review this and not conclude that some of the reason
the
department has diversified has come from the top," said Toni G. Wolfman,
a Boston
lawyer who has defended Boston's consent decree in court. "When the person
at
the top is pushing, things have a chance of getting done."
And they note that while the consent decree has been the primary force
of change,
the department and the city have created qualifications and programs that
all but
ensure that more minority applicants will be hired.
One change can be attributed to the City
Council and Mayor Thomas M. Menino, who
in 1994 enacted an ordinance mandating that
municipal employees be city residents. Others
stem from decisions by Mr. Evans.
In 1994, Mr. Evans examined Civil Service
law and found that he could hire applicants
with special skills regardless of their test
scores, as long as they passed the exam. The
commissioner declared that speaking French
Creole was a special skill, saying the
department needed Creole-speaking officers
to improve policing in Haitian neighborhoods.
Since then, the department has hired 11 black
officers of Haitian descent, and the
commissioner has extended the special-skills
designation to speakers of Chinese,
Vietnamese and Spanish.
Mr. Evans also overhauled the department's
cadet program, which guarantees cadets a
job after two years as long as they have
passing test scores and there are vacancies.
Cadets are not covered by the consent
decree, and police officials said the program had become a subterfuge to
elude the
court order and preserve patronage and nepotism. From 1993 to 1996, 96.5
percent of the cadets were white.
At Mr. Evans's insistence, the program began energetically recruiting minority
trainees, who account for 42 percent of the cadets today, said Edward P.
Callahan,
the department's director of human resources.
Boston's police force also has a larger share of black supervisors than
New York's,
and again judicial intervention helps account for it. From 1980 to 1999,
a court
order required that the department increase its numbers of black sergeants.
Although the court order was successfully challenged by white officers,
black men
today represent 14.3 percent of Boston's sergeants and 8.7 percent of its
captains,
compared with 5.7 percent and 2 percent in New York.
Boston police officials say the department is determined not to lose ground
with
black supervisors, and has hired a consultant, Morris & McDaniel Inc.
of Virginia,
to recommend changes to the Civil Service tests that govern promotion.
Historically,
the tests have resulted in a disproportionate number of white officers'
gaining
promotions.
Mr. Evans does not hide his disappointment over the tests, not just because
they
seem to be skewed against minority officers, he said, but because they
do not
provide a meaningful measuring stick of who should get rank.
"The best indicator of future performance, of leadership, is past performance,"
he
said. "Our current Civil Service doesn't really look at performance. It
looks at what
someone scores on a multiple-choice test. If we were in the private sector,
we'd go
bankrupt if we promoted that way."
Recommendations for another promotion system are not yet public. David
M.
Morris, the consultant who is preparing them, said he might propose a selection
process, called an assessment center, that could include exams that cover
practical
skills, an oral question-and-answer session in front of multiple observers,
or both.
"This is not an affirmative-action gimmick," Dr. Morris said. "We believe
you can
have two things: a higher-quality supervisor, someone who has been promoted
by
relevant selection procedures, and you can have diversity, too."
To be certain, diversification has not occurred without consequences.
In practice, the consent decree has meant that the department has bypassed
some
whites to hire blacks and Hispanics with lower test scores. The department
is
defending discrimination lawsuits from whites who claim that the decree
is not likely
to pass constitutional muster, although it has in the past.
"The way the Police Department is doing this now, using separate standards
to
achieve strict racial balancing, is unconstitutional on its face," said
Michael C.
McLaughlin, a lawyer representing a white male applicant. "Think about
this: whites
are being denied jobs only because of their race."
Black officers also have complaints over what they see as unequal outcomes
of the
department's disciplinary and assignment policies, and the lack of access
by minority
officers to vigorous union representation — all similar to complaints among
black
officers in New York.
They also describe difficulties in some Boston neighborhoods where, as
one officer
said, "the only real cop in the eyes of the people is white, Irish and
male."
"This is still a work in progress," said Officer Larry Brown, president
of the
Massachusetts Association of Minority Law Enforcement Officers.
And even after nearly 30 years of court-enforced remedy, and a clear change
in the
composition of the ranks, police diversity faces obstacles.
Mr. Alkins of the N.A.A.C.P. said the department would attract more black
men if
the city were not living under its legacy of racism, illustrated most powerfully
by the
busing protests in the 1970's. He noted that in 1999 a black lieutenant
found a crime
scene tape, knotted into a noose, dangling above his motorcycle — a sign
to many
blacks that pockets of racism endure within the department.
"We are still in a situation where there are African-Americans who believe
that they
should not take this job," Mr. Alkins said. "They think, `Who's going to
watch my
back when I go in there, with all that racist history?' "
Mr. Evans and others say that the recruiting is not as difficult as that,
and that with
diversification has come a reduced degree of public animus and suspicion.
But he acknowledged: "We've got a deep, deep racial history. There's a
lot of
history in this city that we work every day to overcome."
April 2, 2001
For Black Officers, Diversity Has Its Limits
By C. J. CHIVERS
he New York Police Department
employs 465 captains, the group of
senior officers from which its most prominent
and powerful commanders are selected. You
can count the number of black men in
captains' uniforms on two hands. There are
nine.
In 1990, 7.7 percent of the department's
sergeants were black men. Since then, the
proportion of black men working as these
front-line supervisors has fallen by more than
a quarter, to 5.7 percent.
The absence of black men is similarly stark in
the elite commands. There are 59 officers in
the Aviation Unit, which maintains and flies
the department's fleet of helicopters. One is
black.
After a generation of diversifying its ranks,
America's largest police department has
undergone unmistakable change. The
proportion of women in uniform has risen
more than sixfold since 1974, with real
advances made even among black women.
Hispanic representation has increased by
nearly 500 percent. Prodded by lawsuits and
public demand, a department in which nearly
9 of 10 officers were white men has come
perceptibly closer to resembling the city.
But the department has failed in one crucial
respect. For all the recruiting campaigns, the
millions of dollars spent, the pledges by police
commissioners and mayors to make the
department reflect the city it polices, the
advances have largely excluded black men.
Personnel data show that the proportion of
black males in uniform has increased to 9.2
percent from 7.7 percent since 1974, and that
modest increase was almost entirely a result
of the merger with the better-integrated
housing and transit departments. Before the
1995 merger, the percentage of black men in
the department had declined over two
decades.
Moreover, male black officers have been losing ground. The proportion of
male
black supervisors has declined since 1990. The number in senior positions
is down
since 1995. And five prestigious commands — Major Case detectives and
Emergency Service, Mounted, Aviation and Harbor Units — are almost all
white.
All this in a city that the 2000 census says is 25 percent black.
"I don't take it for granted that I'm in a specialized unit, and I know
I shouldn't
complain," said Officer David K. Leader, the department's only black helicopter
pilot. "But where are the others?"
The failure of the police to attract and advance black men means that the
department, by its own measure, has not achieved one of its most important
personnel objectives, one publicly embraced most recently by Mayor Rudolph
W.
Giuliani's administration. It also means that after three decades of trying,
the
department is still in pursuit of the fully representative force that a
procession of
police commissioners have said could foster public trust in a city where
tension
between the police and residents persists.
Police Commissioner Bernard B. Kerik, appointed last August, said that
he was
concerned about the problems suggested in the department's demographics,
but
would not comment in detail because he had not analyzed its equal employment
record.
"Would I like the numbers to be better?" Mr. Kerik asked. "Of course."
Consistent calls for police integration reach back to rioting in the early
1960's, and
were endorsed in the 1968 report on race relations by the federal Kerner
Commission.
Since then, the national experience with police diversity has been mixed.
Many cities
have required court intervention to open their ranks, and many of those
that
markedly changed their demographics, including Miami and Los Angeles, still
have
fractured relations with minority neighborhoods. Others, like Boston, improved
their
reputation as their departments changed.
New York is a city whose leadership has explicitly promoted the belief
that more
male black officers would improve the force, and set out to remake the
department
on its own. But success remains elusive.
Not even the presence of a black mayor and black police commissioner changed
the pattern. Under Mayor David N. Dinkins and Lee P. Brown, the commissioner
for much of Mr. Dinkins's term in the early 1990's, representation of black
men in
the ranks barely budged. Mr. Dinkins said he found integration was difficult
to
accomplish because the city lacked a residency requirement, and thus white
men
from the suburbs dominated each academy class.
"I'm sad, it ought not be," Mr. Dinkins said. "I wish we had done better."
Mr. Giuliani's aides say that the mayor has long seen the value of integration,
and
recognized the shortage of black officers. But William J. Bratton, Mr.
Giuliani's first
police commissioner, said the mayor did not back several initiatives in
his first term
aimed at accelerating diversity.
Mr. Giuliani did address the problem of recruiting minorities after the
Amadou Diallo
shooting in 1999. But personnel records make clear that little progress
has been
made attracting and promoting black men across his two terms, and in some
respects, black men have regressed. Fewer hold top positions than in 1995,
and the
department's recruiting, despite its most aggressive spending ever, has
met the
barest of successes in hiring black men.
Mr. Giuliani would not be interviewed on this subject.
To be certain, the department is not directly responsible for all of its
difficulties in
hiring black men and advancing their careers. A large proportion of black
officers
have been stymied for promotion by Civil Service rules, over which the
department
has limited control. And because many local young black men lack the requisite
education, they do not qualify for the Police Academy. Most who do qualify
express
little interest in signing up.
The uniqueness of the challenge is underscored by the department's relative
success
with black women. The number of black women on the force has risen from
near
statistical insignificance in 1974 to nearly 5 percent today. Their representation
in
supervisory jobs has also increased.
But the department's efforts also appear to have been significantly undermined
by its
own actions and reputation. For instance, its recruiting efforts have been
made more
difficult by the strong perception among blacks that police tactics in
the city are
overly aggressive and racially driven.
Further, an examination of department records, interviews with dozens of
black
police officers and senior officials, and a review of records prepared
by the City
Council and equal employment auditors shows that the department's commitment
to
greater integration has been uneven.
In recent years, the department has used money earmarked to create a minority-
recruiting unit for other uses, refused to document its performance to
auditors and
done little to address the virtual segregation of elite commands.
And black officers and detectives, many of them saying that the overt racism
of
yesteryear is effectively gone, describe their exclusion from the department's
legendary cliques, which they say have created networks of relentlessly
political
white officers who hold sway over plum assignments.
In the end, many black officers see their employer as awkwardly self-satisfied:
at
once publicly endorsing the merits of diversity and championing it as a
priority while
resisting change, exaggerating its successes and excoriating its critics,
none more
fiercely than those in its own ranks.
"The department wants to have great relations with the black community,"
said
Officer Raymond S. Skeeter, a recruiter. "But it does not even have good
relations
with its own members. We are not welcome the way whites are. We do not
have
the same opportunities. If the New York Police Department wants to get
along with
blacks on the street, it has to start with getting along with blacks in
its own
organization."
Promotions
Experience Loses
To Exam Scores
Trim and square-jawed in his dress uniform, Sgt. Kelvin Alexander strode
across
the auditorium at 1 Police Plaza in February 2000 to the applause of hundreds
of
guests. Howard Safir, then the police commissioner, clasped his hand, posed
for a
photograph and gave him a $500 check.
Sergeant Alexander was receiving an award for superior work in community
relations. He was grateful, but curious: if the department regarded him
as one of its
best, why could he not get a promotion or a raise?
The answer lies in the department's promotion system, which disproportionately
limits the advances of black men.
To select police supervisors, the city relies on Civil Service rules, the
municipal
offshoot of a reform movement that spread through the nation after the
Civil War.
The rules aimed to replace the political spoils system with objective measures.
Under these rules, the primary arbiter of promotion to the ranks of sergeant,
lieutenant and captain are multiple-choice exams of police-related knowledge,
including the department's rules and regulations, tactics and criminal
law. The top
scorers are placed on an eligibility list, and then promoted in descending
score order
over several years.
The city gave eight of the exams in the 1990's. In each case, black men
flocked to
the chance at advancement, applying for the tests at rates higher than
whites. And in
every case, black men represented a significantly smaller portion of those
selected.
The tests work like filters in sequence. Few blacks make it to sergeant,
fewer still to
lieutenant, almost none to captain. The tests have also had a disparate
effect on
Hispanics and women, but not as markedly.
It is not until supervisors reach the rank of captain that they can be
promoted at the
discretion of the police commissioner, and be eligible for a chief's stars.
And
although recent experience shows that black men in the most senior positions
are
promoted significantly faster than their white peers, the Civil Service
system
produces so few black captains that the inevitable result is evident in
the executive
ranks: the number of male black inspectors and chiefs is minuscule, and
dropping, to
10 last fall from 12 in 1995.
Senior black men are a small enough population — 19 of the 699 officers
at captain
or above — that when a ranking officer was asked to provide a list of them,
he
laughed. "You don't need a roster," he said. "You got Ron, and Monte, and
Elton,
and Timmy," and he quickly named them all.
Many experts say the city's reliance on multiple-choice exams almost guarantees
that
blacks will continue to falter, given the larger national experience with
standardized
tests. "Certainly there are big racial disparities, glaring racial disparities,"
said
Stephan Thernstrom, a Harvard University professor who has studied standardized
tests. "So one of the big questions to me is, well, do these tests measure
police
aptitude?"
The question echoes throughout the department. Blacks say the promotion
system's
outcome might be justified if the exams actually predict supervisory skill.
But officials
say they have no evidence the recent tests have been reviewed in this way.
In the absence of a detailed analysis, many officers and police officials
question their
value. They say there are elements of leadership — courage, judgment, integrity
—
that are critical in the station houses and on the beat but impossible
to judge by the
tests.
"I think if we were to say that someone who does well on a test will make
a better
sergeant than someone who scored 10 points lower, well, that's probably
not true,"
said James H. Lawrence Jr., the department's chief of personnel and senior
black
officer. "The process that we have for determining the promotions is not
serving us
the way we would like it to serve us."
Commissioner Kerik said the decline in black supervisors was not related
to ability.
"The African-American police officers I have worked with are extremely
professional, bright people, absolutely on par with whites," he said.
It is this apparent contradiction — the department says the performance
of blacks
equals that of whites, but does not seem inclined to examine a system that
ensures
unequal promotion rates — that has made many blacks deeply suspicious.
The unease is fueled by anecdotes. One black officer and former Army sergeant
said he was promoted six times in the military, which selects supervisors
on the basis
of performance, not tests. He has never been promoted in the Police Department.
"You can't tell me for a minute that this place knows more about leadership
than the
United States Army," he said.
Kelvin Alexander, whose supervisors say he is exceptionally talented, took
the
sergeant exam three times before passing. He has taken the lieutenant exam
twice,
missing by a single question. "I have a college degree," he said. "I am
an avid reader
and have a passion for history. But it seems whenever I come up for promotion
in
the Police Department, I come up short."
He said the cost of a system that excludes black men from rank went beyond
poor
morale among black officers. It is evident in the distrust many city residents
express,
reflected in polls and demonstrations.
"How can anybody be surprised at the problems the department still has
in the
community?" said Sergeant Alexander, who is a member of 100 Blacks in Law
Enforcement Who Care, a fraternal group. "It hasn't changed for black men
here in
25 years, and in a lot of ways it's getting worse."
Many officers and experts pointed to other cities that, like the military,
have found a
balance between ensuring diversity and limiting patronage. These cities,
including
Houston and Denver, use performance records, tests and interviews to select
supervisors.
Sergeant Alexander says he thinks the department is not interested in exploring
alternative methods of promotion, and he isn't alone. He mused aloud about
how
white officers would react if the promotion system consistently excluded
them from
greater pay, stature and more challenging work, and the department did
not address
it.
"It's a bigoted process," he said. "And you just can't get the department to see it."
Black men have also lost ground in other areas, including special-assignment
status,
which grants increased pay in lieu of rank. In 1996, 15 of the 111 sergeants
and
lieutenants receiving this pay were black men; last December, the number
was 7.
Sergeant Alexander said he had requested special-assignment pay for years,
without
success. Another sergeant recently told him how he had received his
special-assignment pay: a connection in City Hall.
An officer since 1983, Sergeant Alexander said he attended the academy
for the
most fundamental reason: he needed a secure, respectable job to provide
for a
young family. He recalls the lectures at the academy about fairness and
integrity,
about the meritocracy that the department had become.
His sense of optimism has evaporated. "For black men," he said, "a lot
of what they
told us hasn't turned out true."
Specialties
For an Elite Unit,
Get a Contact
Officer David Leader remembers his first helicopter patrol. It was 1991,
and he sat
at the controls of a Bell 206 helicopter at Floyd Bennett Field and felt
the aircraft
roar to life as he worked the controls. Moments later, he was bound for
the
Manhattan skyline.
"Here I was thinking, `I've got it made,' " he said. "I was in command
of a helicopter
heading out over New York City. It was the culmination of years of work."
A decade later, Officer Leader, one of the few black men in the department's
elite
commands, has seen the limits of hard work.
According to personnel statistics, the Emergency Service Unit, with 501
officers,
has 37 black men; the Mounted Unit, with 124 officers, has 3. There are
3 among
the Major Case detective squad's 43 members, and 2 among the Harbor Unit's
159.
Dozens of officers, black and white, identified a single factor for the
virtually
all-white rosters: "hooks," friends in high places whom officers rely on
to get what
they want.
Hooks, police officers say, have a simple correlation to careers. The officers
with
the best connections, black or white, are often the cops with choice assignments.
"I can tell you how this happens," said one black detective. "It's phone
calls. The
guys with the hooks get the right phone calls, and that's how they get
the best jobs.
Most of the time, when a black officer is looking for a big job, he can't
get the
phone calls."
Many white officers say they can also be deprived of perks for lack of
connections,
but they acknowledge that because there are so few black men at the top,
black
officers have less access to the spoils system.
The department has been on notice about the near segregation of the elite
units for
years. Benjamin Ward, the former police commissioner, who is black and
held the
post from 1984 to 1989, said he routinely pressed the issue with his staff,
and
forced transfers to try to bring a degree of balance.
In 1996, Wilbur Chapman, the former black chief of patrol, tried again.
He analyzed
the imbalances in the Street Crime, Anticrime and Highway Units. In an
internal
memo based on that study, a deputy commissioner told Mr. Safir that many
elite
units consisted entirely of white men "despite the fact that they serve
communities
that are either ethnically diverse or majority minority."
The memo recommended that "the process by which applications, interviews
and
assignments are evaluated be reviewed to guarantee that all candidates
receive equal
treatment and consideration."
No changes were made until 1999, when an all-white team from the Street
Crime
Unit fired 41 bullets at Amadou Diallo, killing him as he reached for his
wallet. The
memo surfaced, and Mr. Safir ordered a mass transfer of blacks to street
crime
duty.
Detective Jacqueline Parris, the president of the Guardians Association,
another
fraternal group, recounted the department's desperation. Michael A. Markman,
who
was the personnel chief, called her to a meeting.
"He asked me to get as many blacks as I could get to go to Street Crime,
and he'd
make them detectives on the spot," she said.
Street crime duty remains relatively diverse, with 46 blacks making up
15.6 percent
of its 294 officers in January. Many officers say its demographics prove
that the
department can diversify when it cares to.
One former white chief called the unequal access to the department's most
prominent and exciting jobs "a quiet shame."
"The department finds black men good enough to do very, very sensitive
jobs where
they are needed to save the white bosses from being maligned, like in community
affairs, or where they are needed to make cases, like breaking up black
drug gangs
in undercover narcotics duty," he said. "But somehow the department didn't
find
them good enough for the specialized duty?"
Chief Lawrence, named to head the personnel section after Mr. Kerik was
appointed, said he would look to diversify the units where blacks are
underrepresented. "Opportunity in all of these units should be equal across
the
board, so naturally, when I look at this data, I am concerned," he said.
But even if more blacks were moved to elite units, many blacks said, the
larger
phenomenon — hooks — will endure.
Police Officer Dennis E. Gray, a member of 100 Blacks in Law Enforcement
Who
Care, recalled that a white chief's daughter picked up the phone and easily
transferred to better duty. "It's who you know and who you're related to,
more than
what you do," he said.
An Army reservist and a graduate of St. Francis College in Brooklyn, Officer
Gray
has passed the latest sergeants' exam and is awaiting promotion. But his
broader
frustration is great enough that he might turn in his badge. "Having seen
how the
system works, I wonder if it will work for me," he said.
Officer Leader is also considering quitting, which surprises him, given
his early,
profound satisfaction as a pilot. But all the other black pilots — by his
tally there
have been five in the unit's 72-year history — left long ago, and, he said,
less
experienced white pilots have been trained to fly the search- and-rescue
helicopter,
the Bell 412.
It is an honor Officer Leader has requested for years but has never been
granted.
Last fall he asked to transfer. "I have hit the glass ceiling," he said.
"I would just be
torturing myself to stick around."
In January he filed a departmental discrimination complaint, claiming that
he had
been denied training because of his race.
"If it was really an objective to make sure the city's mosaic reflects
through the
whole Police Department, then with 41,000 officers they ought to be able
to find
more than one black man who wants to fly," Officer Leader said. "Right
now the
department has one black pilot, and when I leave they'll have zero. They
can say
what they want, but a zero is hard to explain."
THE BLUES
This is the fifth article of a series examining the challenges and
turmoil facing the New York Police Department. Previous articles concerned
the department's morale problems, the loss of senior supervisors to retirement,
the lack of senior black officers, and how the department's own tactics
and reputation hurt its attempts to recruit young black men.
These stories include the following which can probably be found from
links on the pages for the first two.
* Alienation Is a Partner for Black Officers (April 3, 2001)
• For Black Officers, Diversity Has Its Limits (April 2, 2001)
• Feeling Scorn on the Beat and Pressure From Above (Dec. 26, 2000)
• Behind the Success Story, a Vulnerable Police Force (Nov. 25, 2000)