My degree in public administration not yet a dream, I grew up poor and black in Minneapolis, taught by my mother to "look down, know your place and be obedient" if stopped by police.
That humiliating lesson barely saved me when police assaulted me during my first year of college at the University of Minnesota. They said I looked like a suspect they were pursuing, put me in the back of a squad car and beat me.
That event changed my life trajectory, such that by 1999 I became director of Planning and Development of Hennepin County, home to the largest affluent population in Minnesota. Part of my job was to figure out why deep pockets of black poverty also persisted there.
I could relate to being poor. A vivid childhood memory is looking out of our house while men dug up the street to turn off our gas. We couldn't pay the heating bill. The men were white. My mother, four siblings and I — at 10 the youngest — shivered in the cold nights of 1967. The water pipes froze. We were evicted and moved to another of the poorest streets in town.
By 1976 the many incidents of police brutality against black people in Minneapolis caused the Civil Rights Commission to hold hearings. I testified. Not much changed. Fast forward to 1987 when Minneapolis Mayor Don Fraser asked me, then 30 years old, to join the first advisory committee tasked to respond to citizen complaints.
We created a civilian-police panel to investigate allegations of police misconduct. It was called the Police Review Authority and had the power to issue subpoenas — that is, until the police union lobbied the Legislature, which stripped out that power. Thousands of complaints came before the board, but few police officers were disciplined. Instead, the city paid millions of dollars to settle claims of excessive force. To this day, that oversight board remains a paper tiger.
Seven years ago my wife, Betsy Hodges, who is white, was elected mayor of Minneapolis. Between 2013 and 2017 she instituted police training in procedural justice, unconscious bias and methods of de-escalation, and appointed the city's first black police chief. Today, Minneapolis employs these and other best practices for policing yet, as we all saw, episodes of heartbreaking violence still occur. Police brutality has long existed hand-in-hand with racial economic disparity.
Now, as the CEO of an organization dedicated to prosperity for all Americans, my work is to dismantle racial economic disparities and uncover why they become systemic. History offers clues.