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In this episode of Hidden Verdicts, we dive deep into the legal gymnastics that dictated who was considered black and who wasn’t, with monumental cases like Plessy v. Ferguson setting the groundwork. How did the Supreme Court decide what fraction of someone’s blood made them a different race? And why do these outdated ideals still linger today? We explore the bizarre and often contradictory ways American law has tried to define identity. Prepare to rethink what you know about race in America. Make America Think Again.
Interested in reading Plessy v. Ferguson use this link: https://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/163/537/
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As a lawyer, Kamala Harris has built her career on the principles of our legal system. Principles like Stair Decices, but not all decisions stand the test of time. Take Plessy vs Ferguson in 1896, when the Supreme Court ruled that one drop of black blood defined a person's entire identity, shaping the very essence of who they could be in America. But that wasn't the only time the court tried to define race, cases like Ozawa vs United States, where a Japanese man was denied whiteness, despite his pale skin, and United States vs. Tend, where the court rejected that Indian man's claim to be Caucasian, show how race has been shaped and reshaped by legal logic. The U.S. Census, changing its racial categories almost every decade, shifting with the times. In this episode of Hidden Verdicts, we draw a parallel between Kamala Harris and Homer Plessy. In 1896, Homer was labeled as "black" because of one fraction of his ancestry, despite being seven-eighths white. Today, Kamala Harris carries the same complexity, Indian, black, and yes, even white. But unlike in Homer's time, Kamala Harris chooses how she's identified. This episode examines how the courts and laws have shaped our understanding of race, how identities have been defined, confined, and sometimes liberated. We're here to explore the legal history, not to endorse any political candidate. This message is brought to you by Hidden Verdicts, making America think again, and to be clear, we endorse understanding the law, not candidates. Let's dive deeper into this episode. Kamala Harris' story isn't unique to today. But it's part of a long history where race was determined not by how you identified, but by how society and the courts chose to label you. This takes us back to one of the most impactful Supreme Court rulings in the 19th century. Plessy versus Ferguson. In 1896, Homer Plessy, who was seven-eighths white and just one-eighth black, boarded a "whites-only" train car. He did so to challenge Louisiana's segregation law, hoping to overturn the strict racial categories enforced by the state, but the Supreme Court saw things differently. The one-drop rule that archaic legal logic meant that despite his light skin and mostly white heritage, Homer was classified as black. This ruling would go on to uphold segregation for decades under the infamous "separate but equal" doctrine. Let's break this down to something simple. Imagine you have eight lemons. Seven of them are perfectly ripe, shiny, and bright yellow. But one of them, it's a little different. Maybe it's a bit green, a little tart. Maybe even dare I say a lime? No problem, right? You've still got seven good lemons, so by any reasonable logic, you'd say you have a bunch of lemons with one that's a little off. But not so fast. In the Supreme Court's world of racial math, that one little lime in the basket makes every single lemon a lime. Absurd, right? Now, let's take that idea to something a little more personal. Imagine a family tree. Your great, great, great grandfather was black. His son married a white woman. Your child married another white person, and so on, down the generations. By the time we get to you, seven or eight ancestors are white. But just like that one lime, that one drop of black blood means, you guessed it, you're black. Doesn't matter that you haven't seen a drop of melanin in the family for five generations. Going to the Supreme Court, black is black. Let's really think about what a drop of blood is. Just one little drop contains around five million red blood cells, thousands of white blood cells, and a whole bunch of platelets, tiny stuff. Now imagine trying to pick out just one black blood cell from all that. Where is it? Which one makes you black? The court didn't care about the science of it. They just said, one drop is all it takes. And what about blood transfusions? If a white person receives black blood during surgery, does that make them black now? Do they get to check a new box on the census? No one ever answered that, did they? The math doesn't really add up. But this kind of legal math didn't just apply to black Americans, oh no. The courts had plenty of opinions about who could be white too, Mr. Ozawa, a Japanese immigrant who applied for US citizenship in the 1920s. Ozawa argued that he was as white as they come. His skin was light, and he fully embraced American culture. But when he tried to claim whiteness in court, the Supreme Court said no. His skin may have been pale, but according to the court's logic, he wasn't Caucasian, so he couldn't be considered white. Then, there was Bhagat Singh Ting, an Indian man who argued that technically speaking, he was Caucasian because he was of Indo-Aryan descent. The Supreme Court wasn't buying that one either. They basically said, you might be Aryan, but you don't look like what we think of as white, so no dice. The definition of whiteness was as fluid as ever, shifting depending on who was trying to claim it. Now, let's take a look at Kamala Harris. On the surface, she identifies as black, and it works for her politically. But if we apply the same rigid math the Supreme Court once used, things get a bit more complicated. Technically, Kamala's father was born in Jamaica, and in the historical sense, Jamaicans aren't black in the American racial system. They're Jamaicans. Race in the U.S. has always been an American construct. So, if we're talking about black blood by the standards of Plessy, or those old natural Her father is Jamaican, and her mother is Indian. Technically, there's an argument to be made that Kamala Harris could be seen as neither black nor white. Here's where it gets even crazier. After today's understanding of race, Kamala could claim whiteness, too. Let's take this a step further. If race is a moving target, why couldn't Kamala Harris claim to be white? If we apply the kind of logic used in the tin case, where the court had to decide what looked white enough, Kamala could make a case. I mean, after all, there's no strict rule about what it means to be white anymore. In fact, many immigrants from Europe who weren't considered white 100 years ago, like the Irish or Italians, would be seen as fully white today. So if Kamala wanted to stretch the boundaries a little, she could argue her case for whiteness. The fact that racial definitions have changed so much over time shows just how absurd these classifications really are. They've been used as tools of control and exclusion, shifting to whatever political needs were in play. And today, Kamala can claim both Indian and black identities, but under the right circumstances, she could also have a case for being seen as white. And if you need more proof that race is a constantly shifting idea, look no further than the US Census. Every ten years the government takes stock of who lives in America, and every ten years they adjust how they count us. The racial categories on the Census have changed time and time again, reflecting whatever version of race the country was comfortable with at the time. At one point, you could be counted as Milato, Quadrum, or even Octoroom. All legal terms that defined you by how many fractions of black blood you had. Then, by the 20th century, those terms disappeared, and new ones were added. Mexican Americans were classified as white until 1930, when Mexican became its own category, and it wasn't until 2000 that you could even check more than one racial box acknowledging that. Before we wrap up, let me ask you this. If a person is 7/8 white and 1/8 black, what race are they? Legally, they're black. Socially, they might be seen as something else. But what if the reverse is true? What if someone is 7/8 black and 1/8 white? Does that make them black, or something else entirely? Now, let's think about this by any standard of modern math. Do these equations make sense? If 7/8 of a person's ancestry is white and only 1/8 is black, does it add up to make them fully black? And what about the reverse? In today's world of logic and reason, do these fractions actually equal what the courts of the past said they did? Who gets to decide? Is it the courts, society, or the individual? And does that answer change over time? Race, as we've seen, is both a question and an answer that changes depending on who's asking. As we've seen throughout this episode, the courts have spent over a century trying to define race, who is white, who is black, and where people fall in between. The story of Homer Plessy, much like the stories of Kamala Harris, Tako, Ozawa, and Bagzing Ting reminds us that race is not a fixed concept. It's a moving target, a fluid construct that changes based on time, politics, and power. But here's the question, have we really moved past the ideas that defined Plessy versus Ferguson? Yes, Plessy was overturned legally by Brown versus Board of Education. Segregation is no longer the law of the land, but in our hearts, minds, and society, the legacy of Plessy. This fixation on defining and dividing people by race still lingers. Today, people like Kamala Harris have the opportunity to define themselves, to embrace multiple identities, to say, I am more than just a fraction. But we must ask ourselves, has the law caught up with the reality of identity in America? Or are we still confined by the outdated notions of race that once defined Homer Plessy's fate? One thing is clear, as America continues to grapple with these questions of race and identity, it's up to us to think again, to re-examine how far we've come and how much further we still have to go. This Halloween, we're taking you on a journey into the darkest corners of American justice. These aren't just cases, they're nightmares come to life. We begin with El Mazri versus Tenet, a case where a man was disappeared, tortured and silenced by the government under the guise of national security. The line between protection and persecution was blurred in the most terrifying way. Next we move to Buck V. Bell, where the Supreme Court ruled that forced sterilizations of the so-called "unfit" were perfectly legal, thousands of lives were stolen in the name of progress. From there we dive into Korematsu versus United States, where over 100,000 Japanese Americans were imprisoned for their ancestry during World War II, a decision that still stands casting a long, unsettling shadow over our present. And finally, Henry Kimbler, the first use of the electric chair, what was supposed to be a humane execution turned into a gruesome, horrifying spectacle, forever changing how we view the death penalty. This Halloween season, we're not just telling ghost stories, we're uncovering the real horrors hiding in the legal system. Are you ready? Thank you for listening to Hidden Vertics. Be sure to subscribe, share with friends, and leave a review. [Music]
