Mattie White remembers July 23, 1999, as the day her life was turned upside down.
On that day in Tulia, Texas, White’s 26-year-old son and 25-year-old daughter were swept up in a drug bust that eventually resulted in the arrests of 16 percent of the town’s African-Americans–and a smattering of Euro-Americans who were, coincidentally, involved in mixed-race relationships.
On the word of one white undercover cop with a shoddy work history and a fondness for using the word “nigger,” the bust eventually resulted in forty-six indictments–and prison sentences that ranged from a few decades to 431 years. In Tulia, these alleged “drug dealers” were all arrested without drugs in their possession, but were indicted and paraded in front of TV cameras because undercover officer Tom Coleman swore that he had bought drugs from them. Coleman, for his part, had no other officers to corroborate his purchases, nor detailed documentation of any kind.
Mattie White’s children–and her white son-in-law–are now among the thirteen people who remain in prison from those arrests. The three young adults are serving ninety-nine-, sixty- and twenty-five-year prison sentences, far away from the rural town of 5,000 that they call home. In a July 29 column in the New York Times, Bob Herbert noted that “if these were major cocaine dealers, as alleged, they were among the oddest in the US. None of them had any money to speak of. And when they were arrested, they didn’t have any cocaine. No drugs, money or weapons were discovered during the surprise roundup.”
“Our goal is to have these sentences overturned,” says Theodore Shaw, associate director-counsel for the NAACP Legal Defense & Education Fund, whose agency represents Mattie White’s children in their postconviction appeals. “If this is not a civil rights issue, then there are no civil rights issues at this time…. The war on drugs has ended up being a war on people of color.”
Organized opposition to the drug war is no longer limited to the efforts of more radically minded drug reform activists from the political extremes.
The chorus, as it were, is now made up of an unlikely coalition of religious leaders, drug treatment experts, former addicts and prisoners, academics, students and pundits from both the right and left–all of whom decry the futility of mass incarceration as a tool for controlling the use and abuse of drugs. Drug-war dissent is also growing among elected officials like Representatives Barney Frank, Maxine Waters, Charles Rangel, John Conyers and Ciro Rodriguez.