For Black Americans, simply cashing a check can be tough
Clarice Middleton shook with fear as she stood outside a Wells Fargo branch in Atlanta in December 2018. Moments earlier, she had tried to cash a $200 check, only to be accused of fraud by three branch employees, who then called 911.
Middleton, who is Black, remembers thinking, “I don’t want to die.”
For many Black Americans, going to the bank can be a fraught experience. Something as simple as trying to cash a check or open a bank account can lead to suspicious employees summoning the police, causing anxiety and fear — and sometimes even physical danger — for the accused customers.
Most people who experience an episode of racial profiling don’t report it, lawyers say. Some find it easier to engage in private settlement negotiations. The few who sue — as Middleton did — are unlikely to win in court because of loopholes in the law.
Middleton had gone to the Wells Fargo branch in Druid Hills, a wealthy, mostly white neighborhood, to cash a refund for a security deposit from a real estate company that had an account with the bank. Three bank employees examined the check and her identification but refused to look at the additional proof Middleton offered. They declared the check fraudulent, and one employee called the police, according to her lawsuit.
When an officer arrived, Middleton showed him her identification and the check stub. As a former bank teller, she knew that would be proof enough that her check was authentic. The officer left without taking action. The Wells Fargo employees asked Middleton whether she still wanted to cash the check.
“I said yes, because they had written all over the back of the check,” said Middleton, who sued Wells Fargo last year for racial discrimination and defamation and sought an unspecified amount of damages.
Mary Eshet, a Wells Fargo spokeswoman, said Middleton had begun yelling “abusive and profane language” at the employees when she saw her ID being scanned.
“Employees tried to address Ms. Middleton’s concerns by explaining our policies, but Ms. Middleton continued to yell profane language,” Eshet said. “She was asked to leave the branch multiple times and refused, so our employees followed their processes to engage law enforcement.” She added that the bank “appreciates the sensitivities of engaging law enforcement and the importance of continually reviewing our training, policies and procedures.”
Middleton’s l awyer, Yechezkel Rodal, said her client had not used profanity. “Wells Fargo is in possession of the video surveillance showing exactly what happened in the branch that morning,” he said. “The video will not support Wells Fargo’s lies.”
The problem is hardly confined to Wells Fargo.
Last June, Robyn Murphy, a public relations consultant in Maryland, took her 18year-old son, Jason, to a Bank of America branch in Owings Mills, Maryland, to open a joint savings account. Murphy, a 20-year customer of the bank, said she was shocked when an employee refused to proceed after a computer program flagged her son’s Social Security number as fraudulent.
Murphy protested: Her son had his own checking account at the bank. His Social Security number had already been used there without issue. The Murphys are Black. Jason Murphy, his mother said, is 6-foot-9.
“For all I know, it’s fraud,” the employee told them. Robyn Murphy said he had asked them to come back with Jason Murphy’s Social Security card. When Jason Murphy stood up, the employee yelled, “Don’t get up!”
After Robyn Murphy contacted a senior vice president she knew at the bank, other officials apologized and offered to open the branch whenever it was convenient for the Murphys to return and complete the transaction — which they did.
“It weighed on us very heavily for a long time,” Robyn Murphy said.