What We Really Learned from the "Teachable Moment"

On July 16, 2009, Sgt. James Crowley responded to a call from Lucia Whalen, a neighbor of Harvard professor Henry Gates. When Sgt. Crowley met with Whalen prior to approaching Gates' residence, Whalen allegedly told him that she had "observed what appeared to be two black males with backpacks" attempting to enter the home. On the 911 call she can be heard saying that she is unaware of the ethnicity of the two men, and Whalen has since denied having told Officer Crowley otherwise. This early discrepancy is only the first in a situation where no two stories are alike, and where each unfortunate participant attempts to justify his actions as he reels from the accusatory gaze of an overly critical society.

Undoubtedly Sgt. Crowley acted rashly. True, he was (allegedly) demeaned, verbally abused and threatened, but he is a police officer in a major metropolitan area. Certainly he underwent some sort of race sensitivity (in fact, he teaches the district's course on racial sensitivity), and was taught how to handle these types of situations. Walk away and nothing happens. In this case, Sgt. Crowley was the one with the power; as a police officer responding to the scene if he walks away, if he separates himself from a justifiably offended Gates, it becomes a minor blip in the police blotter section of the Boston Globe's Friday paper.

Instead he chose to engage an (allegedly) belligerent Gates, and remained intent on asserting his authority over what he saw as an "uppity black man."

Gates and Crowley agree on nothing in their two separate accounts of the incident, and with the public scrutinizing every aspect of the interaction, one can hardly wonder why, as each man attempts to spin the altercation and present himself in the best light.

However, despite the ridiculousness of the event itself, it might have died away shortly thereafter, once the facts were divulged and the 15 minutes of infamy expired, had the President not decided to prematurely weigh in, saying "I don't know - not having been there and not seeing all the facts - what role race played in that, but I think it's fair to say [...] that the Cambridge police acted stupidly." He repeated, "Gates is a friend, so I may be a little biased here. I don't know all the facts."

President Obama admitted upfront that he did not have all the necessary information to make a judgment about whom was right, but having acknowledged his lack of information, he still felt the need to contribute. The savvy Obama could not resist the urge to once again wade into the virulent waters of race relations, because it has gone so well for him before (see Reverend Wright).

There's a good chance it might not have even been about race. I personally find it likely that it was more about class and education. Sgt. Crowley works the beat in an affluent neighborhood. Professor Gates is tenured at one of the most elitist institutions in the country. Harvard's not exactly the Skulls or Bohemian Grove, but it is close. In the end President Obama was right: Crowley did act stupidly, blinded by his ego (not necessarily by racial intolerance) and determined to prove his legally-bestowed authority. But Gates acted stupidly too, if Crowley's story is true. You shouldn't demean someone who has the ability to arrest you just for being disorderly. It's not a smart idea.

The event finally reached the apex of its absurdity when President Obama decided to invite the two men over to hash out their differences over a beer in the Rose Garden. Two men who probably hate each other, the Vice-President and the President, all having a beer to show that we can all get along. What could possibly go wrong?

It's a nice photo-op. But why stop there? - why not set up a ring and let them slug it out like real men? Isn't that how we men settle our differences? The White House could have sold tickets to help fund the health care plan. I would have paid to see Professor Gates hit Sgt. Crowley with his cane.

Too far-fetched? So is the idea that you can solve the issue of race by sharing a beer with the (alleged) victims and perpetrators of racial profiling and making it a media event. It's preposterous. The reluctant participants were barely animated, and there was no laughter from the Rose Garden that afternoon as they slowly drank their beers and sat through what must have been an extremely uncomfortable situation for everyone. It was uncomfortable for me just to look at the pictures. I wince every time I look at the President's forced smile, Gates' intense stare, Crowley burying his face in his mug, trying to avoid the orange slice in his Blue Moon and the back of Vice-President Biden's balding head. If I was in one of their seats I probably would have finished my first beer in 4.2 seconds and quickly transitioned to grain alcohol.

Yet miraculously, the media found a way to make the event even more ridiculous than it actually was. The major news networks (CNN, MSNBC, FOX, etc.) covered "beer-gate" more closely than if it was some sort of ritualistic dance fraught with meaning and substance. They analyzed what type of beer each man was going to have and speculated about how their choice related to their position in society. It's beer, not a John Milton poem.

The only thing we really learned from the whole debacle, the "teachable moment," was that if you enjoy Red Stripe, you're going to have to bring your own six-pack; the White House refuses to serve non-American beers. And that President Obama prefers Miller Lite. Drink responsibly America, drink responsibly.