Minority Report

The economic factor

The African American community also finds itself marginalized when it comes to neighborhood humane programs. Part of the difficulty is economics.

With many charities feeling they have to compete for donations, fundraising efforts are concentrated where people expect to generate the most success - in white, middle-class, affluent suburbs.

Ironically, rescue groups and shelters often start in poorer, urban areas, where properties large enough to house their dogs and cats are cheaper. But adoptions and fundraising are still conducted mainly outside that neighborhood. And as organizations grow and become financially stable, they tend to relocate to more upscale neighborhoods to better serve their donating clientele. But it undermines the needs of the animals.

"Humane groups go to all kinds of other organizations to help them with their mission," says Noel. "They go to white Rotary clubs and business groups. Why don't they go to groups like One Hundred Black Men? They need to look at themselves and ask whether they are really networking properly to fulfill their mission.

"When you go to different races, the dynamics change, and that makes for fuller, stronger solutions. The black community has a strong base in the church, which is the most influential organization in African American life. Why aren't they tapping into that?"

Meanwhile, humane groups look at the problems animals have in lower socioeconomic communities and conclude that minorities simply don't care. They see strays running in the streets and unaltered animals left to reproduce, and they assume there is some sort of "cultural" block.

"That," says Noel, "is just ignorant. My friends who are black are all animal conscious. And it's not because of me. They have pets from shelters, and they're spayed and neutered. They could be involved in the humane movement. But what have the humane organizations ever done to get them involved? If they put out the word to the African American community, they'll see people getting involved in shelter work and rescue work."

The cultural divide

There's certainly no shortage of kindness and caring for animals in minority neighborhoods. But white society has developed its own views on how animals should be cared for - attitudes that translate into adoption policies that don't necessarily fit other communities. And that's how a cultural divide is created, thus further alienating the African American community.

Animal welfare groups might not admit it, and may not even realize they're doing it, but the fact is many of them do discriminate against minorities in their adoption programs.

Mike Kaufman, of the North American Riding for the Handicapped Association, is a veteran of the humane education world.

"There is an unspoken thing in animal welfare circles," he says. "There are litmus tests that we give each other, over who is good enough to be in the club or not. And if you fall outside of that, you don't have a chance."

Even the adoption process itself can feel alienating. African Americans are often suspicious of white authority figures. And the first step in the adoption process is an interview in which they're expected to answer a mass of questions like "Do you have the financial resources to care for this animal?" "Where will the dog sleep?" "Have you ever had pets and what happened to them?" and "What will you do if the cat scratches the furniture?"

"Think about the kind of interrogation that people undergo to get a dog or cat from the animal shelter," Miller says. "You're always going to be suspicious when people ask you all these questions and then turn you down. We see it all the time. You go to the bank, you have the same credentials as the white person, but you get turned down. Then you go to the insurance company, and they are red-lining in your area, and you can't get insurance. And then you go to the animal shelter, and they tell you that you can't get a dog or a cat.

"It's not an experience that people want to go through."

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