Goetz and the Subway Shootings

The Bernhard Goetz case raises an interesting question, especially to those who consider themselves non-prejudicial. Did Goetz feel threatened because the kids were black? He says he felt threatened by the “shine in their eyes and their body language.”

Could it have been not their body language but their body color? Or perhaps that’s what Goetz meant. For argument’s sake let us assume Goetz did feel threatened--not by four kids in a subway but four black kids in a subway. And that feeling of being threatened is what triggered him to fire away.

The interesting question, and the question that everyone should ask himself, is: “How would I act and feel in the same situation? Well, let’s just hope that we wouldn’t act as Goetz did. But would we have felt as Goetz did? Would we have felt threatened?

Most people would have to answer yes (especially if they are white). Even the most non-prejudicial advocates of human rights would have to admit that they would be a little nervous--scared, perhaps--to be alone with four black youths in a subway.

Why? Well, there are several reasons. First, the stereotypical subway-riding black youth is seen as a hoodlum. Second, rumors and misconceptions add to the myth that all subway-riding black youths are hoodlums. Third, crime statistics show that there is a disproportionate number of subway-riding black hoodlums.

So how does one cope with the fears, the feeling of being threatened? We know how Goetz coped. He didn’t do a great job. In fact, he reacted in the worst possible way. Others (most of the elderly) cope by staying within the safety of their locked homes. And still others cope by “grinning and bearing it.” True, the last alternative is not comfortable. It can be a little scary to sit next to four black youths in an empty subway. But it is better to live through these “threatening” situations than to act as Goetz did or to sit home, cooped up, afraid of the outside world.

There is no easy answer. But eventually, when enough people have lived through these tense moments, society will realize that although our fears are partly based on fact they are, for the most part, based on stereotypes and myths. As soon as this realization is made, people can begin to trust one another again and live without feeling threatened.

JOSHUA D. GRUENBERG

San Diego

I am writing in reference to Mike Royko’s analogy to the Bernard Goetz incident (Editorial Pages, March 6), “Justice Is Sometimes Crude, but It Is Justice No Less.”

I assume that Royko is no idiot; otherwise he would not be a syndicated columnist. However, everyone is entitled to an occasional lapse of consciousness, which is probably why we have those little bumpy lane markers on the freeways.

Royko’s lapse occurs in his attempt to illustrate a parallel between Bernard Goetz and the “pudgy kid with glasses” on that troopship to Korea. While Royko suggests that the fat kid may have shoved the sergeant to the floor by accident, the discharge of Goetz’ gun was far from accidental.

Did this kid on the ship play out the scenario in his mind before acting? Was that kid armed to kill, as was Goetz? Did he check his vanquished foe’s condition and declare that “you don’t look bad enough. Here’s another?”

Royko infers that justice was done in each case. I think Royko’s assessment of justice has missed its mark. He should try comparing apples to oranges.

MARCELLUS J. BROWN

Reseda

What I found most significant in Royko’s account of the violent confrontation between a frightened young soldier and a mean-spirited sergeant aboard a Korea-bound troopship was not the parallel with the Bernard Goetz subway shooting incident, as Royko intended, but Royko’s description of his own role as witness during that ship incident.

I think Royko’s stumbled onto something there, but with his city-of-the-big shoulders macho posturing he probably wouldn’t recognize it. It’s not the crimes we witness that bother us as much as the fact that we serve as mere witnesses to them--voyeurs, as it were. It’s always “High Noon,” and we’d all like to have Gary Cooper come along and clean up his own mess. So when someone like Goetz or Royko’s young soldier strikes out and bloodies his antagonist, we feel a giddy sense of relief--one less act of personal cowardice we have to carry with us through the rest of our lives.

Had Royko’s young soldier restrained himself sufficiently so that he had been left standing there in his wet trousers and humiliation, it’s doubtful Royko would ever be writing about the incident 30 years later. Royko’s recall, I suggest, would’ve been clouded by his own humiliation at having stood off to the side and done nothing.

There’s a crucial distinction being lost in the current debate over vigilantism. Taking the law into one’s own hands, as Goetz may or may not have done, does indeed make a mockery of a system of justice that’s taking years to develop. But to stand timidly by in mute witness of injustice honors neither ourselves nor our civilization.

Maybe it’s time to replace those ubiquitous but essentially meaningless “I love N.Y.” . . . “I Love L.A.” . . . “I Love Boise” buttons with buttons that say “I’ll Stand By You, if You’ll Stand By Me.” Because, truly, until we begin to stand together at the first sign of wrongdoing, we have nothing but humiliation to feel in its wake.

DAN RILEY

Thousand Oaks