This opinion piece fits that mold:
Over the last three decades, a growing body of research has shown that
racial stereotypes play a powerful role in judgments made by ostensibly
fair-minded people. Killers of whites, for example, are more likely to
receive the death penalty than killers of blacks — and, according to the
psychologist Jennifer Eberhardt, juries tend to see darker defendants
as more “deathworthy” in capital cases involving white victims.
As Vesla Weaver, a political science professor at the University of
Virginia, has written, “virtually every aspect of life and material
well-being is influenced by skin color, in addition to race.” Studies
have shown, for example, that darker-skinned blacks are punished more
severely than others for the same types of crimes; deemed less worthy of
help during disasters like Hurricane Katrina; disfavored in some hiring
decisions; and more likely to be unemployed.
. . .The power of stereotypes has always been easily illustrated in studies. But media accounts of the 911 calls made over the last several years by George Zimmerman, now charged with second-degree murder in the killing of Trayvon Martin, offer a glimpse of a man who seemed gripped by fears that he began to associate almost exclusively with black children and teenagers.
The 911 calls began at least eight years ago, with Mr. Zimmerman reporting on a range of non-emergencies, including the existence of potholes or someone driving slowly through the neighborhood. By late 2011, his calls were often about black youths and men, with complaints about suspicious activity or just loitering.
By the time he went on neighborhood watch patrol with his 9-millimeter pistol and spied Trayvon Martin, Mr. Zimmerman saw not a teenager with candy, but a collection of preconceptions: the black as burglar, the black as drug addict, the black “up to no good.” And he was determined not to let this one get away.
. . .The power of stereotypes has always been easily illustrated in studies. But media accounts of the 911 calls made over the last several years by George Zimmerman, now charged with second-degree murder in the killing of Trayvon Martin, offer a glimpse of a man who seemed gripped by fears that he began to associate almost exclusively with black children and teenagers.
The 911 calls began at least eight years ago, with Mr. Zimmerman reporting on a range of non-emergencies, including the existence of potholes or someone driving slowly through the neighborhood. By late 2011, his calls were often about black youths and men, with complaints about suspicious activity or just loitering.
By the time he went on neighborhood watch patrol with his 9-millimeter pistol and spied Trayvon Martin, Mr. Zimmerman saw not a teenager with candy, but a collection of preconceptions: the black as burglar, the black as drug addict, the black “up to no good.” And he was determined not to let this one get away.
